Gone But Never Forgotten
by have-a-great-day
Summary: Derek wasn't always such a sourwolf. He used to smile and laugh, and it was all because of her. Then, she just left. And now, Derek's alone. But she's back in town, and Derek's in for one hell of a ride. Meet Lilac AKA Lily Williams, a hunters daughter, Stiles' best friend and an Alphas mate. Now that sounds like a party. Derek/OC Erica/Boyd Stiles/Isaac Lemons
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O'Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I'm British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I'm going to guess. Please, don't take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Lilac POV

"_Thank you for flying Miami Airways. We are about 40 minutes from landing so please, wait until the vehicle has come to a stop, and the green button above the intercom is lit, then you can make your way out of the plane, and gather your belonging. Have a nice day."_

Yeah, yeah, yeah. 'Have a nice day?' What I wouldn't give to have one of those, but thanks to the Gods, I can't. I needed to do this, no matter how much I really didn't want to be here. I hated Beacon Hills; the sight, the smell, the people, the animals. Heck, I even hated the fucking trees, and they haven't done shit to me. I used to live in this back water town, but I had to leave. The memories were too… painful for me to recall.

Come on Lily, breathe in, exhale, then repeat.

That seems to be how I'm spending majority of my time now, just breathing. I'm not living, I don't enjoy my life, I can go so far as to say I hated it, but I knew things could be worse. Now **that **would be tragic. Thinking like this wasn't going to get me anywhere, except for sitting in the middle of a stinking motel bed, with a bottle of Jack Daniels in my left hand and a cigarette in my right. I tried to stop smoking, it doesn't help me in any way, but I developed it, out of a nervous habit I picked up, from _him_. My heart skipped a beat, simply thinking of him. His brilliantly green eyes, and charming, demure smile. No, stop it Lily, you're just going to make it worse for yourself. Breathe in, exhale, repeat. Good. Again.

I pulled off the fluffy, black eye mask with the words 'Do Not Disturb' in golden thread, I had been wearing, and stuffed it in the over night back I had brought onboard with me. I took out a make-up wipe and scrubbed the dirt and sweat that must have caked my face from the late-night crying I had been partaking in, and threw it in the flip-out trashcan opposite me. I pulled out a miniature mirror out of the small zip-up bag and checked on my reflection. Wow, I was not looking good. My hair had been throw up in a messy bun, and now, after tossing and turning in my light sleep, now it was loose and hanging limply out of the hair-tie. The bags above and below my deep green eyes made me look akin to a zombie, and my skin looked pale and sickly. I knew I shouldn't have thought about D-_him. _

If I kept going about it like this, I was going to send myself insane. Yes, I missed him. Yes, I was broken hearted. No, I didn't want to see him, and hope to God that he had left long ago. No, he probably hadn't, but a girl can pray, right? I took a sip of the bottle of now lukewarm water that was seated in the cup holder on my right, and flexed my legs, stretching them a bit. I clicked my back and my knuckles, releasing some tension in my shoulders and neck by rolling it a few times. I really should get changed, shouldn't I? I looked down at the fluffy pyjamas I had changed into about 40 minutes into the five hour flight, and decided to change. I looked around to see half the passengers asleep and the other half more or less brain dead, so I decided to change in my seat.

As quiet as possible, I stood, carrying my backpack in my left hand, and holding my bottle of water in my right and opened the small cubicle they called a bathroom. I mean seriously, this looks like a storage closet you'd find in a school. I set my backpack on top of the closed lid of the toilet and zipped it open, pulling out clean underwear, a pair of tight black leggings and a cropped, black and white Aztec styled bralet. My leather jacket was seated in the open seat beside me. I pulled my hair out of the bun with caution, and combed it out, as softly as possible, catching many knots and wincing as I did. My hair was a far cry from straight, so I did the only thing I could, and that was plait it to the left side, and hold the ends with the elastic I used to put it in a bun. I liked how my hair looked now.

The day I had left Beacon Hills, I walked into the nearest hairdressers and asked for a drastic change. My hair had been a wavy brown, and reached just past my shoulders, and the lady who had been assigned me seemed almost pained to dye and cut it, but I was sure. I needed to change who I was, and what I looked like, even if it was only a little. I didn't want any reminders. So she cut it 2 inches higher, and bleached it blonde. I loved it. But over the last 3 years, it grew out, reaching past my waist line, and I thought about dyeing the ends. My middle name was Ao, meaning blue in Japanese, so I took that as a bit of inspiration and went with dip-dyeing it an electric blue. it's a shock to the system, but after a while, you get used to the colour. I liked it, but it did take a lot of maintenance.

After this, I turned the tap on, pulled out my tooth brush and brushed my teeth, furiously, with the small amount of toothpaste I had brought along with me. I splashed some water on my face, towel dried it and my hands, and pulled out my make-up bag. I threw on a little bit of mascara and made the top liner look akin to cat eyes. I put on a bit of nude lip gloss and used some bronzer to make my cheeks look a little bit more alive. For airplane-chic, I looked pretty decent. I took a step back to admire my work, and honestly, I think Laura would be proud. Oh shit. I wasn't meant to think about them, I really wasn't. I always ended up in floods of tears, and looking a mess.

I stopped, and took in a deep, satisfying breath, calming myself down, and then proceeded to pack away all the shit I had just taken out. A sad smile crept up my face, and I knew I had tears in my eyes, so I just closed them. Over the years, breathing had become something that I had to work on. The pain behind each intake would almost floor me, and sometimes I wanted to die. Other times, it was hard to fall asleep. I would always dream of their faces, and one by one, they would always disappear on me. I pulled my Ray Ban, black, thick framed glasses case out of my bag, and slid them onto my face. It wasn't that I couldn't see, but it's just that my sight wasn't completely 20/20.

I zipped the backpack back up, and threw it over my shoulder, and walked back to my seat, with only purple and white stripy socks adorning my feet. My black and white Converse were seated under my seat. I threw my backpack, carelessly, into the empty seat next to me, and sat, rather unladylike, in the plush seat. There was only a few minutes until we were landing and I was ready to leave, so I slipped on my leather jacket, and my Converse whilst I gathered everything I had brought aboard with me; my backpack and my overnight bag, and sat, patiently, in my seat, taking a sip of water and staring out of the window, at the city below me.

Beacon Hills, California. Get ready, because we're in for a bumpy ride.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O'Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I'm British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I'm going to guess. Please, don't take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**- Starting at episode 11-**

Scott POV

"What the fuck, man! I don't even know where she is, and you know what, I wouldn't even tell you if I did know."

I had had enough of Derek's bullshit a long time ago, and now it just bubbled over. I didn't know where Allison was, or why she was doing the things she was doing, but I knew she was doing it for a reason. Allison, the girl that I loved, and who I knew loved me back, wouldn't do anything without thinking it through. She might not tell me what's going on, but I trust her with everything I have, and especially with Jackson, the crazed kanima, on the loose, I was especially worried. I just hopes she wasn't doing anything too crazy.

I was dragged, roughly, out of my thoughts, because Derek now had me pinned, by the neck, to some slab of metal in his run-down, train wrecked pack-house. I looked into his eyes, and as expected, they were a blood red. This didn't surprise me in the least, as Derek always had something to be angry over. The only thing was, because he wasn't _my _Alpha, it held more-or-less no power over me, and I think that's what pisses him off, majority of the time.

He started growling, lowly, as if to warn me, but really I had no intention of listening to him. Honestly, I couldn't care less about him being the Alpha, or even being born a werewolf, for that matter, he was an asshole, who didn't have friends, so he created Betas. I think he did that so he wasn't so alone, but I was told by Isaac that Erica and Boyd had left his pack. So I suppose that's why he's getting more and more volatile by the minute.

"Listen, you fucking idiot, Allison is gone. She's now a full-fledged hunter, and honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she never cared about you. She's exactly like her bitch of an aunt and I hope you see that soon. You're not protecting her, you're helping her out, even if you don't realise it. Seriously Scott, get your shit together, otherwise, when this all hit's the fan, you'll be the only one who's left hurt."

And with that, he let me go and stalked away. I rubbed the spot where his claws were, and noticed he had broken the skin, the fucking animal. Obviously, I healed quickly, so it was gone in a matter of seconds, but that wasn't the point. He always did this, when things wouldn't go his way, he'd throw his toys out of the pram, and go off to sulk for a few hours.

Really, what happened to him to make him like this? He's gotten revenge of his family, and he became Alpha while doing so. He was supposed to be okay now. We were missing something, and a part of me really doesn't want to find out. I think it's much more painful for him to open up, than it is for him to just keep it to himself. And that's just sad.

Derek POV.

I punched another tree trunk, sending it meters away from me, and howled while doing so. That fucking McCall and his stupid obsession with the hunter bitch, when will it end?! I'm sick of trying with him, he needed to focus. Doesn't he realise that women were just there to fuck everything up? I don't understand why he would carry on trying with her. I really don't.

I chuckled, darkly, to myself, and surveyed the destruction I had caused. I wasn't proud of what I was forced to become, but I knew I was better protected than before. Before everything went to hell. Before she came into my life. Before she left. Before she… Before she broke my heart.

Yeah, see, even a person as supposedly emotionless as I am can cry, because that's what I'm doing now, apparently, if the wetness dripping down my face is anything to go by. I wiped the palms of my claws against my cheeks and sure enough, there were tears there. How does she do this to me? How can she still have so much power over me, without even knowing it? I was ready to be with her, I wanted to be with her, and the day I had been waiting for came around. She wanted me, just as much as I wanted her, and on her 16th birthday, we made love.

I hadn't been more excited than I was that day. A few weeks before her birthday, I went out into town, and bought her a necklace. It was a simple, silver, thin-chained necklace, but it meant something. I had my tattoo, the triskelion engraved into the main piece. It was a dog tag. Kind of ironic considering I was a werewolf, and she was my mate. I was only 18, but I knew it was her I wanted to spend my life with. I mean, she made everything that happened with Kate okay. Well not 'okay', but it never crossed my mid when I held her. It was like she was everything that balanced me out, but then she was gone.

The day after her birthday, the day she became mine, and I hers, she was gone. It was only afterwards that I realised her parents had died. She told me about how much she loved them, and I had even met them a few times. When I would bring her home, after a date that went on too late, they would be waiting for her. It was moment like that made me really miss having a family, just having someone to come home too after a long day, and just being able to laugh and joke with them, but thinking about that would only make things worse for me, so I pushed it away, into the back of my mind, and tried to forget. She always knew when I was doing that, though.

The day I knew it was her was when I shifted in front of her for the first time. She was only 15, I was 17, and she wouldn't stop going on about how much I needed to talk about my family, and after a while, I just lost it. I shifted and jumped on her. Everything was on the table, my claws had sheathed, my face had changed, my eyes were a brilliant blue, and she was silent. I had pinned her by the arms to the floor in the foyer of my burnt home, and she just kept looking at me, dead in the eyes. It took me a few seconds, but I realised what I had done, and I ran. I left her, calling after me, and I just left. I expected her to hate me, to never want to see me, to call me an abomination, but she carried on ringing me on my phone. I ignored every text, let ever call go to my voicemail, and I was gone for a few days.

When I came back, tail between my legs, no pun intended, she was still at my house. I could smell her, and her tears, although the scent was stale, meaning she wasn't crying now. Actually, she was sleeping. Her heartbeat was steady, and she was in my room. I could imagine her, huddle on my mattress, sleeping soundly, and what do you know, she was. She had waited for me. She wanted to stay with me, even after seeing what I was. I shook her awake, and she saw me, hovering over her. I almost expected her to punch me, but she didn't. She didn't turn me away, she pulled me closer. We cuddled for the rest of the day, and I don't remember ever feeling so light.

Sometimes I missed that feeling, but I knew it was just me being stupid. I missed her a lot, my inner wolf missed her more. He wanted her around all the time, but because we hadn't mated her fully, bite and blood included, I wasn't going to die. What I was going to do, however, was be miserable for the rest of my life. As werewolves, we only mate once, and that's for life. I can only imagine that Scott and his wolf feel that Allison is their mate, but I couldn't give a shit. She's a hunter, he's a werewolf. It's never going to work.

**Ironic right?**

**Anyone else surprised by how smart Scott is in this? No, just me? Okay.**

**Some answers: Derek doesn't know about her being a hunter, because she only learnt about it a few months after leaving Beacon Hills, from a letter she was given, written by her parents.**

**Yes, Scott and Allison are mates, but they don't know it yet, so don't worry about any Scott/OC in here.**

**Yes, Stiles will be apart of this, and he's going to have a little bit of fun. I couldn't leave my baby, Stiles, alone.**

**Jackson and Lydia are a pair, but that will come later. **

**Peter Hale will also play a mahoosive part in this story. He's got his own agenda, but he's not entirely evil.**

**Song for this chapter was Teenage Love Affair - Alicia Keys.**

**Thank you, have a great day, and I love you guys.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O'Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I'm British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I'm going to guess. Please, don't take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**I decided to put out an extra chapter this week :)**

**Okay, this chapter is a little gory, so if yo****u don't like it, don't read. I'll mark where it starts, and where it ends.**

Lilac POV

I had long landed in this shithole of a town, and was now in a taxi, taking me back to my parents old home, of which I had just bought. A small part of me hoped that it still looked the same, but another part of me didn't know if I could deal with the pain of the memories I would undoubtedly experience coming back here. Why was I even here? I didn't have to come back. I could have just left it alone. I knew my parents were murdered, no animal could have unleashed the amount of anarchy I had seen.

They had been walking home, taking a romantic stroll back from their date. Yeah, they made a habit of taking each other out on dates, although they had been married for almost 19 years. I thought it was adorable, but obviously, God had another plan for them that night. They took a detour through the woods, which was a stupid move on their parts, but understandably, it was a spur of the moment thing. D-_He _and I did that all the time. They could protect themselves from anything, human or otherwise, with the right equipment, but they didn't bring anything out with them. Why would they? They weren't aware of the werewolves around, especially that their daughter was currently in a relationship with one.

**- GORY BIT STARTS HERE. -**

They were a few meters from the house, only about a 20 minute walk, when they were attacked. Apparently, according to the police, the 'mountain lion' got to my mother first, and it tore her head clean off. She was gone, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. My father, now his was gruesome. I had to identify him, considering his face had been so mauled and his insides were draping out of his body. There was blood everywhere, and you could almost smell the death that permeated the air. My father was hanging from the trees, his blood dripping menacingly down the bark, darkening to forest floor. My mother's body parts were scattered carelessly around the forest, it took days for them to find all of her. The worst thing about it was that they never found the 'animal' that did this, but I knew better. I knew about D-_him _and his kind, so had put two-and-two together and got four.

**- ENDS HERE. -**

The only reason why I didn't suspect _him _was because we spent the entire night having sex. I cant call it making love because I didn't know if he loved me. I know he said it, a lot, but I just couldn't do it anymore. How was I supposed to be with someone who could do **that **to me, if he ever got mad enough. I just couldn't do it. So the next day, I left, I didn't even stay for their funerals, I couldn't go through that, but I asked the Sherriff if he could take care of it. I gave him a hefty amount of money to plan it all, and he did so. I was 16, a legal adult, and I was going to use that privilege.

I didn't tell anyone where I was going, nor did I tell them what I was doing. For all they knew I could have committed suicide, and trust me, I've thought about it a few times, but always thought against it. Something always kept me form doing it, I had no clue what it was, but I was thankful for it. Now that I was 19, I was stronger, faster, smarter and ready for war. I was going to avenge my parents death by finding that werewolf, and tearing it's throat out. Oh, and believe me when I say I could do it.

I had no clue about this until I was sent an anonymous letter delivered from Ireland. I could only guess that it was from someone who knew my father, as he was born and met my mother in Ireland, before they moved to America, to live and raise me. Apparently it was written by my parents, and was to be sent to me, in the event of their untimely death, which already sent warning bells ringing in my mind.

How did they know where I was? How was this is even possible? Did they know they were going to die?

Hastily, I had opened the letter with trembling hands, and read it, tears already clouding my vision.

It read:

**Dear our darling child,**

**We write this before you are born, and we have no clue of your sex, so we apologise for that. First of all, I am sure you are a beautiful, healthy, amazing child, and for that we are thankful, however, as you are reading this, we know we are no longer with you. Your mother and I am so sorry for that. We never wanted you to know of this, of my heritage, however it was something that was unavoidable.**

**You may be sceptical at best, and that means you truly are my child, however this is the truth. I, Robert Williams, am a part of a family of werewolf hunters. We track, chase and kill those wretched creatures, to make sure you live a carefree and safe life. Now personally, I have never laid a hand on them, but my family has.**

**Because you are now apart of my family, I assume I have been training you. I wouldn't have outright told you about my ancestry, but I would have rather died, excuse the irony, that leave you defenceless. Why do you think we would camp for days at a time, or why your mother and I would be so insistent with your extra-curricular work. Off the top of my head, I can guess that you have been doing things such as gymnastics, archery, boxing and martial arts for the longest of times, and I will apologise from now simply because I know how difficult it is being a hunters child.**

**I did everything I could to keep you safe, and I think I did good, but I suppose only you would know, because you're my child.**

**We love and miss you, our child.**

**Your parents.**

I cried for the rest of the day, and dreamed of my parents that night. I woke up in floods of tears as I realised that they were no longer with me.

I clutched the two necklaces that hung on my chest that much tighter in my right hand, and I sat in the back of the taxi. One was a silver dog tag, with _his _mark carved on it, and the other was a locket with 'Our Princess' on the front and my name 'Lilac Ao Williams' engraved on the back, with a baby picture of my inside it. I never took those off, not even when I went to sleep, and they were more valuable to me than all of my money, belongings and memories combined. If I even lost any of them, there would be hell to pay.

As soon as I left Beacon Hills, I moved to Miami, Florida and started a life there. I didn't go back to school, but chose to get my degree in psychology, journalism, health and social care and sociology online, which is where everything is nowadays and was completely happy with it. The apartment I had been renting out for the last 3 years was paid in cash straight up, and came with a fully fledged gym and work out station, which I used religiously, working on my body, to the point of almost obsession.

I thoroughly searched for a centre which catered to everything I needed; a boxing, gymnastics and martial arts gym, a military base to work on my knife and archery work, and a language centre. I was fully engrossed in my work, and was very satisfied with the life I had chosen for myself. I was very good at making friends, and I had, with the more important people, like the owners of the centres I had chosen, and because money wasn't a problem, considering my parents left me unbelievable amounts of insurance and inheritance money, I was able to work out a deal with everyone I needed to.

My parents taught me well, and I was able to work on my body to my hearts content. I would like to think that my father would be proud of me and what I am doing, and my mother would appreciate the sentiment of me going after their murderers, because I know that's what they'd do for me. We were similar to that of a pack, they were my Alphas and I followed their every word, and as their Beta, they trained me in the things they thought were necessary.

I was very smart, and was able to divert that intelligence from academia towards strategy and planning. I was able to focus on one thing and one thing only; killing the bastard who did this to them.

As I thought of this, a slow, evil and pretty frightening smile slid its way up my face, and I could see out of my peripherals that the driver, whoever he was, flinch at the sight.

**Have a great day, and I hope you liked this chapter.**

**Love all you guys.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O'Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I'm British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I'm going to guess. Please, don't take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**Okay, this chapter is a little gory, so if you don't like it, don't read. I'll mark where it starts, and where it ends.**

**Allison POV**

Pulling out my bow and strapping my arrow to my shoulder, I felt a shudder fly through my body. My conscience was shouting at me, telling me that I knew I shouldn't be doing this, but my mother was dead. Derek killed her. He did this to her. He bit her, knowing she'd rather die that change into one of them. And that's what she did. She pushed a knife into her chest, stopping her heart immediately, and taking her from this world.

As the daughter of a hunter, I was raised to be a warrior. Unknowingly, I was trained to kill. And I was proud of that fact. I wasn't a weak-minded human, like Stiles or Lydia, who leaned on others to protect themselves, but I wasn't an abomination, like Derek or Jackson. Thinking of them, Scott's face shot into my mind, and I couldn't help but frown to myself.

I missed him, a lot, actually. But I couldn't let myself get drawn in by him. He chose his side, I've chosen mine. I cannot be distracted, no matter how much I might love him, he's a werewolf, and I hunt his kind. There is no way we can be together, not without one of us giving up on our situation. I wasn't going to leave my family, and he wasn't going to leave his pack. So, that was the end of us. I've accepted that, and I hope he has too.

"Let's go, Allison."

I heard my grandfather shout up the stairs, and I took a calming breath. I'm going to hunt me some Derek, and I wont stop until he's dead.

**Lilac POV**

I realised that I had no way of travelling around town, because I had no car. I got my license back here in Beacon Hills, I just never got the chance to use it. I decided to buy my first ever vehicle tomorrow, after I get a little bit of rest and something to eat. I had been in this cab for about an hour, who knew Beacon Hills was so big? It took ages just to flag this cab down, because the airport seemed so busy today. Who was coming here? Like, seriously, it's Beacon Hills, nothing major or special about this place, why are people flocking here like a swarm of bees?

As I looked out of the window, I knew I was going to stand out, if not because of my personality, then most definitely because of how I looked. Nobody here seemed to know of the word colour, because everything looked so boring. The buildings, the forest, the people? It all looked to organised and planned out, and it was killing me. I was used to bright, vibrantly painted homes, loud and clumsy people and conversations, because normal back in Miami was not accepted.

It was go hard or go home, which is why when I turned 18, I got that saying tattooed at the back of my right shoulder, to remind me that everything I did needed to make an impact. Over the last year and a half, I have gotten a few piercings and tattoos, but each meaning something to me, personally. Currently, the list stands at:

I only have my tongue pierced, and I got that done with my mother on my 15th birthday. Like any normal girl, I had my ears pierced, and in total, I had 3 all along both ears, plus the scaffolding in my left ear. I didn't really pierce, simply because it seemed weird to have all this metal in your body. I sort of felt like Wolverine. When I first came to Miami I got snake bites however I rarely wore it, but on the off chance that I did, I kept two thin black rings in them. Also, my most outrageous piercing would have to be my right nipple. I got it, simply because I could, and I thought it represented a lot of who I am. Its strange, uncommon, and very, very interesting. What can I say, I'm a peculiar girl.

Majority of my tattoos were very self explanatory, but here's a recap on what I have had done.

I got the date of my both my parents births and deaths in roman numerals directly above both of my Achilles' heels and I usually kept this one completely covered up, because as much as I didn't want to forget them, I missed them, and it did hurt to dwell on the fact that they were gone. I got this tattoo in such a precarious place to pay homage to them; showing the respect that they deserved.

Almost as if my ribcage was a piece of paper, I had 'Seize The Day, Live For The Night' written along the left hand side; it was written completely in black, and was written in thin cursive, with no shading or filling colour. I thought it was a pretty cool saying, and it more of a spur of the moment thing. I walked in tat-less, and walked out with it. I had to honour my Japanese ancestry and I got 'Ao', my middle name, in kanji on my right wrist, and it had been filled in with a deep blue, and I got my 'Williams' on my left wrist, filled in with brown. I made sure to make it visible to everyone, because I was proud of them.

For my 18th birthday, I got myself 'Life Goes On' along my right clavicle and on the nape of my neck I got my mother and fathers initials tattooed in their favourite colours; light purple and forest green, respectively. Behind my right ear, I have the infinity sign and I have _his _triskelion imprinted behind my left shoulder blade, in his favourite colour, which was, evidently, black. This was the first tattoo I had ever gotten, and I got it a few weeks after I had departed from Beacon Hills, back when the heartbreak was still fresh and raw. I got it, and for some reason, it placated me, it made me feel like I had taken a part of him with me, and I was glad for that.

Around my right thigh, I got a garter tattooed and if I was to make a decision, I think that this would be my favourite. It was my largest piece, and also, my most recent tattoo, but as I saw it, I fell in love and got it immediately. It wasn't even all that detailed, just the typical shading and was about 3 inches thick, wrapping around the entire of my thigh and it had a two thickly drawn bows, on the inner and outer sides of my legs. I really did like this one, even though many people didn't even know I had it.

Considering the clothing that I wore covered me up pretty well, people rarely ever saw my more intimate pieces and I thought that was sad, because they were beautiful, each in their own way. I planned to have many more, didn't want to go overboard, so I decided to take it slow. The pain of the needle repeatedly stapling my skin reminded me that I was human, and that I could be hurt. That was another reason why got all these done; to remind me that I was only human, and that would eventually die. It was something that kept me going.

Being human was sometimes very difficult, as we had to deal with injuries and sickness, whereas the supernatural did not. However, I would much prefer to be human, as being a werewolf sounds like such a task, I had no intention of taking that on. Although, I think I'd be a pretty kick-ass werewolf, if I was honest. I wasn't a hunter, however I was the child of one, therefore I was going to honour my parents, and take down this werewolf, and that was it.

I wasn't going to mindlessly kill, simply because I didn't understand why werewolves existed. This certain bastard actually hurt me, in a way not many can understand, and that's why he must die, if he's not dead already.

We arrived at my parents home, and the kind cab driver helped me take all my luggage from his trunk. I only had 4 suitcases, but they were all filled to the brim, and were on the heavy side. I hauled the two I had and he slid the other two along, seemingly with ease, towards my front door, and as I opened up the door. All the lights were off, but I expected nothing less. I flicked them on, and with a sense of familiarity, yet sadness, I took in the sight before me.

All the furniture was gone, the once rug covered laminated floors were dusty and undisturbed, and I noticed I was making track lines as I pulled my suitcase along with me. The driver stopped at the door, finding it easier and less awkward to just push them into the doorway, and he waited outside. I silently thanked him for this, as I don't think I could dead with anyone else in here, besides me, right now.

"How much do I owe you, sir?"

I said, as I started walking back towards him, backpack in hand, and purse at the ready. It was small, grey and a gift from _him_.

"If I'm correct, it's 75 dollars, ma'am."

I handed him the correct amount, and slid him an extra 20, and winked at him, smiling as I said, "It's a tip, for being such a kind driver."

This made him smile, and he thanked me, whilst walking away, back to the black and yellow cab. I waved as he started driving away. He left me with a good feeling, I was happy that the people here was so nice, because it made my life much easier. I just had to find any awkward-looking, gruff men or women, and they'd automatically get into my 'they-might-be-wolves' category.

I jogged up the stairs, two at a time, and burst into my old room. Thank God, there was nothing in here,. The Sheriff must have done as I had asked, and taken everything to storage, as well as giving my parents the funeral that they deserved. I decided to go there, after I had gotten a little bit of cleaning done, because God knows that this house needed it. With a start, I realised I had absolutely no products, so I made it my mission to get this house in top shape.

You might be asking why I bought a house, rather than an apartment or something smaller, but the answer was simply because of memories. I wanted this to become my families house, it was the last place my parents lived, and I wanted to make it somewhere my children, if I ever have any, could live. I think my parents deserve that at least.

I walked out of the house, and locked it behind me, making my way to the nearest grocery store, and prayed nothing unpredicted happened. But then again, unpredictable was my middle name, after all.

**Next chapter, Sydney meets one of the pack. Who could it be? Anyone want to guess? Also, do you think anyone will remember her?**

**Anyway, have a fucking fabulous day, and I love you guys :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O'Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I'm British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I'm going to guess. Please, don't take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Searching the aisles for the correct type of bleach really was going to be the death of me. me had been scanning every self, repeatedly for the past 20 minutes, and me couldn't find her favourite type. Part of her shuddered at the thought of having her house smelling akin to a hospital, but all that dust and dirt needed to go. me was half-way ready to pick up the really shitty kind, when I heard a voice beside her shout, "What are you looking for?"

Her head turned and saw what me had decided was the most adorable looking, 16-year-old boy, in the universe. He was about 5 foot 10 and had hazel eyes. The most prominent feature of his was his shaved head, and if I was honest, it complemented him, perfectly. Smiling at him, brightly, he seemed to be stunned for a second. Oh, so he liked me? That was cute, but I wasn't looking for a relationship, especially with someone who seemed to be was a very hormonal teen.

"Yeah, I'm looking for a certain type of bleach. I don't like the usual stuff, it reminds me of a hospital."

He chuckled to himself, and shuffled on his feet. He made his way, albeit awkwardly, over to me, and stood at a distance from me. He had no experience around women, obviously, but something about him really interested me. He approached me, even though I looked completely odd. I knew people weren't used to me, if the appalled looks I had gotten as soon as I had stepped out of my house were anything to go by. I cant say I wasn't used to those looks, but come on, please, be a little less transparent.

"I suppose you could try Sunny Side, it's okay. It smells nice, at least. It's my favourite one."

He pointed at an obnoxiously bright bottle of bleach, with the words 'Sunny Side' written in ugly red print. I looked up at him, disbelief obviously written all over my face, and couldn't help it. I burst out laughing, and I had to hide my chuckles behind my hand. He seemed to find this funny, as he started silently laughing to himself, and I knew I had made a friend.

"I could have told you to get Dirt BeGone, and then you'd really hate me. It smells like death."

I was basically howling with laughter at the look on his face, and he started laughing with me. He was red in the face from laughing, as I was, probably, and I had tears in my eyes. It wasn't even all that funny, but I just couldn't help it. I think if he was a bit more confident and sure of himself, he'd be pretty attractive, but I know he'd make a girl very lucky one day. I don't know, but because he came to me first, I almost feel like he's someone to look out for later on.

"My name's Lily Williams, and yourself?"

I held out my hand, and he looked at it as though it was an alien, and for a second, I thought he wasn't going to take it. I started to retract it, but he shocked me by grabbing it, and shaking it, strongly.

"Sorry, my name's Stiles Stilinski. People don't normally shake hands…"

"You mean girls?"

He dropped my hand, only to scratch the back of his head, bashfully. I hit his shoulder, lightly, and shrugged, while putting a few bottles of Sunny Side into my basket. I knew I needed a lot more than this to clean my whole house, but it was a start. Stiles and I walked in casual silence, and I liked it. He was shopping for himself, but walking with me, so I didn't feel so alone.

"You're new here, right?"

The question shocked me, again, so I jolted and one bottle of Sunny Side fell out of my already full basket, and hit the floor, loudly. Stiles and I cursed at the same time, and bent to pick it up, only to brush hands, and he started to blush like a maniac. I, on the other hand, thought it was just too adorable, and started grinning like an idiot. I picked it up and secured it in my basket and replied, "Yeah, I'm new. I got here today, straight from Miami."

He looked at me, strangely, and I couldn't help but giggle at his expression. One of his eyebrows was quirked up, and his mouth was slack. It was just too cute.

"Why in the fuck did you come here then?"

I was sort of shocked at the language, but smiled to myself, thankful that he did curse. I didn't know anyone that didn't. It was so weird, hearing someone go out of their way not to swear, and it made me uncomfortable. Its almost like they cant be themselves around you, and I didn't like that.

"I have a little bit of business here, but I think I'm gonna be here a while. Hence the bleach."

He looked into my basket, trying to be sneaky, and saw nothing but cleaning products. He froze, and looked at me, in mock-fear, and asked, "You gonna murder somebody? You've only got bleaches and shit, what do you need the for?"

I laughed at the irony of the situation, but replied with a simple, "Well, if you see my face on the news, you'll know why." And laughed, to let him know I was joking.

We carried on like this for a while, until the checkout came and I had to pay for all the stuff I had picked up. I had gotten a mop, a bucket, about 30 bottles of different bleaches, advised of course by Stiles, a fuckload of sponges and a Henry vacuum. It was clear I was on a cleaning frenzy, and Stiles laughed, and told the oh-so-original sexism jokes, all the way to his car.

"Where's your car?"

By the look on his face, he could tell I didn't have one, and he admonished me for it. He told me that although they were a small town, shit still happened here, and tat I should be more careful. It was a little after dark, and I suppose it wasn't smart of me to come out, without a car, but I could protect myself. I would be okay. But then again… That's probably what my parent thought, huh?

"Get in!"

Stiles shouted at me from the drivers side, and I quickly obeyed. My stuff had been pushed into his backseat and I was quietly instructing him how to get to my house. Thinking about my parents had me a little bummed out, and Stiles could tell. Instead of asking me about it, and possibly upsetting me further, he switched on the radio, and just by chance, my favourite song came on, Teenage Dirt-Bag by Wheatus. Before I knew it, I was singing along to the lyrics, and looked to see Stiles doing the exact same. We looked at each other and started rocking out at the back of his car, my previous sullen mood completely forgotten.

After the song had finished, we started playing 20 questions. I learned that his real name was Genim, but he absolutely _loathed _the name, so decided to never use it, and stick with Stiles. I, also, learned that he wasn't 16, but 17, turning 18 this year, and in return he learned my name and age. He had asked why I was back in town, and I told him the truth, but of course completely omitting the part about werewolves and my lifestyle. I asked about his family and he told me his mother had died of cancer when he was 11, and I told him my parents died here 3 years ago. He was shocked to learn used to live here, but I simply told him I didn't really get out much, and that I looked completely different. His favourite film series' was Star Wars and I told him mine was the Lion King. He laughed, and decided to call me 'Simba' for the rest of the conversation. Ass-hat.

I had no clue why, but I felt connected with this boy. I felt like I could tell him anything, and by the end of the journey, I had gotten his number and he had mine, and I promised to call him whenever I got the chance. At first, I could see he liked me, but after a while, I knew he only saw me as a friend, and I him, and that made me happy. I don't know why, but I knew couldn't hurt this boy, he was too nice for that to happen to.

Hopping out of his run-down, yet sturdy Jeep, I noticed that he was looking at my house in wonder. He voiced his opinion by saying, "Shit! You live here? Alone?!"

I turned to look at my two storey, simple yet homely, garage and conservatory infused home and smiled to myself, and replied, "Yeah. I'm 19 now, so I can."

"Woah. You're house is nice, by the way. It's cool."

I laughed, and thanked him. I yanked open the Jeep door, only to be chided by Stiles, something about taking care of the elderly, and pulled out my 4 shopping bags, closed the door and started walking back to my house.

I heard Stiles start up his Jeep again, but he didn't take off until my door was shut behind me. As soon as I had taken 5 steps into my house, my phone started vibrating in my jacket pocket.

_From: Stiles_

_To: Lily_

**Bye, Simba.**

_From Lily_

_To Stiles:_

**Don't text and drive. Bye-Bye, Stiles. C U L8R.**

_From: Stiles_

_To: Lily_

**:$**

I laughed at the green face that came up on my Blackberry and tucked it back into my pocket. I pulled out the bucket, and walked over to the sink. It was still working, thank God, and I turned on the hot water. I waited until it was as hot as it was going to get, and left the ugly green bucket under it until it was half way full. I poured in two caps of Sunny Side, and Stiles was right, it did smell very nice. I started on the living room floors and then made my way through the kitchen and into the downstairs bathroom. I started vacuuming the stairs and worked on the carpeted area in the hallway on the first floor, working up a sweat while doing so.

Because it was getting dark, and there were no light bulbs in the lights, I had to work by candlelight, which really wasn't at all easy, but I did it. By the time I was finished cleaning, it was way past midnight and silently, I cursed whoever made dust mites a thing. I dragged myself down the stairs, holding the now more-or-less empty bucket, filled with grey, murky water and emptied it into the sink. I looked out into the garden, and saw the over-grown hedges and grass, and basically cried out at the thought of doing it all, but I knew it was necessary.

Tomorrow is another day, I suppose.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O'Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I'm British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I'm going to guess. Please, don't take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**See how nice I am, giving you all a second chapter? No seriously, I did this because this story needs to be getting more views, as well as the rest of my stories are at 11 chapters, and this is at 6. Suck, right? Well, here it is. I hope you like it.**

Because I had no bed to sleep on, I ended up napping on the carpet upstairs, and boy, was it uncomfortable. I woke up with knots and stitches all over my body and my limbs were aching in all the wrong places. I had plugged my phone into the sockets in the walls last night to charge, but found that there was no electric, so I turned it off completely, meaning my alarm didn't go off, and as I looked at the time, I almost had a heart attack.

It was way past 3pm and I had things to do today. I ran to the now sparking bathroom and turned on the shower, and while it was warming up, I brushed my teeth and washed my face, while subsequently tying my hair up in a bun, and then jumped in. I had checked whether the boiler had been on last night, and the shower was a perfect way to wash off the last day and a half. It was quick and before I knew it, it was over, and I was wrapping my body up in my favourite fluffy orange towel, and was padding my way into my parents old room, where all my things had been set out.

I dried my body off and moisturised while pulling out a fresh pair of deep blue, matching underwear, and a pair of bright red jeans and a simple, tight black tank. I checked in my shoe suitcase and decided on wearing a pair of white Air Force 1s and straightened my hair. I tied it up in two tight, but low pig-tails, and did my standard make-up and pulled on my glasses. When I was done, I looked in the mirror and liked what I saw. I had so much to do, so I made a mental list of the most important things, and it went something like:

- Have someone deliver and fit all the furniture and essentials, **soon**.

- Find out who killed my parents, kill them, and be done with it.

- Go to the gym, and cut the grass outside.

- Meet up with Stiles and go out for a coffee.

Yeah, that sounded good. I ran downstairs, grabbing my jacket that was hanging, precariously, on a nail that I had found, that used to hold a picture of my parents and I in a park, when I was about 9 years old. Good times. I picked up the backpack that was sitting right next to the door and on the way out of the door, I decided that I needed to go and see the then-Sherriff of the town, and whilst I was walking to the police station, I was wondering how he was, and whether he was still in the position. I had told him that I was coming back, but I also informed him that it might not be for a while. I didn't even remember his name, I just gave him the money, and left. What if he had moved towns, or even died? How was I supposed to find all my stuff? Oh for fucks sake.

The walk wasn't at all that long, and before I knew it, I was pushing open the doors, and was greeted by the smell of black coffee and doughnuts. What a lovely smell. Suddenly, the fact that I hadn't eaten for the last 2 days hit me, and I was hunched over, holding my stomach. I swear, cramps were invented by the Devil. I felt a light hand land of my shoulder, and before I even realised, I had the person in question in a headlock and their hand behind their backs.

As soon as I came to my senses, I released them, and when I realised that the person I had just assaulted was not only a police officer, but the Sheriff, I wanted to take his gun and soot myself in the face with it. I was apologising, like they were the only words I knew how to say, and he accepted my help up, and did the strangest thing. He laughed it off.

"Don't worry about it kid, I just wanted to see what was wrong. I shouldn't have handled you like that, we even?"

I shook the hand that he had put out, and smiled up at him. I looked up at him, and asked, "Do you remember a young girl, about 16 years old, who's parents had died, and her asking you to put the stuff in her house into storage?"

He nodded, but looked rather dubious, and I laughed, more to myself than anything. I knew I looked nothing like I used to, but it didn't stop amusing me how people assumed.

"Oh, thank God, it's you. Yeah, that was me. I sort of need some help getting all that stuff back, and I was wondering if you could help me?"

He raised and eyebrow at me, and at that moment he reminded me a lot of Stiles. I wonder… Could he be his father?

"Okay, let's say this girl was you, I'm going to have to ask you some questions about it, before I truly can assess that the girl is you."

I understood, perfectly. I mean, I looked completely different, and even I would have been sceptical about this whole scenario. I nodded and followed him to his office, and wasted no time in sitting in one of the chair, opposite his desk. From where I was sitting, I could see a picture of him and a woman, and a much younger Stiles. Yeah, he's his dad, alright. And I assume that the woman with them was Stiles' mother. She was beautiful. Long, dark brown hair, and bright hazel eyes. She looked very happy in the photograph.

"I know that kid. Stiles, right? I met him yesterday, at the store. He's very polite, you raised a good kid."

I smiled at him, letting him know I was being genuine with my appraisal, and his mouth curved upwards slightly, letting me know he heard me. His shoulders relaxed a little, and I think he was getting used to me. I think it's the bright hair, it puts people off. After about 20 minutes of harsh interrogation, Sheriff Stilinski determined that I was being truthful, and promised to personally deliver all my belongings, and have them fitted, before I get home, tonight. I had left him with house key, and told him I had another set, of which I did, and found that I had left the station a happier, brighter person, and I think the people around my could tell, if the stupid smile on my face was anything to go by.

Next stop was trying to find the correct car for myself. And to find that, I went to the local car dealers, and took a look around. From what I could see, the place was nice. The cars out in the lot were shiny, although they were a little on the expensive side, considering they were all second-hand vehicles. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw a black and yellow 2006 Diecast Chevrolet Camaro. I had thought that this was the car for me but it was only when the sleazy salesman came and tried to pick me, and when had declined, felt it pertinent to put his hands on my person that I found the place insufficient.

I made my way back to my house, and it was only with a stroke of luck that I walked by a 20-something year old, selling a jet black, 2008 Yamaha motorcycle out of his garage that I really stopped and jumped for joy. I ran towards him and with an excitement I haven't felt for years, I enquired about the bike, and found it came with a helmet, replacement tyres and pump for $6250. I agreed, straight away, and within two hours, I had a new bike, all my belongings being delivered to my house, and a painfully empty stomach. I decided to text Stiles and invite him out to eat, considering I still had no clue around the city. I informed Mike, the guy who sold me the bike, that I would pick it up the following day, in the morning, and I'd bring the money we had decided on, and I left him home, and began walking home.

A chill went straight through my body, and I held my jacket closer to my body, shivering as I zipped it half-way up. I pulled out my phone from my pocket and went straight to texting Stiles

_From: Lily_

_To: Stiles_

**Hey, you wanna go out and get something to eat?**

Part of my was worried that I was interrupting him, especially now that it was just after 7pm, and it was getting a little late. He probably had school, and I was just keeping him from doing work. I was just about to text him, telling him it was okay, and apologise for texting him out of the blue like that, when he texted back, and I did a little dance. In my head, of course.

_From: Stiles_

_To: Lily_

**I'd love to, where are you now?**

I wasted no time in texting him back, and was grinning the entire time I was. There just was something about Stiles that reminded me of my dad. It could have been his random outbursts, or his inability to stay still for longer than a few seconds, and I loved it. It reminded me of home. He made me smile, and I had only met him a few days ago, does that make me strange?

_From: Lily_

_To: Stiles_

**I think I'm near the town, I'll meet you by your dad's station? It's the only place I know.**

As I sent the text, I found myself doubling back on myself, jogging towards the station, and by the time my phone was vibrating, I was already there. I don't know why I was so excited, but I think it's because I missed him. I missed his stupid humour, his shaved head, his bright eyes. But most of all, it was because he was there. He spoke to me, when others would turn away. He was very accepting, and that was something I sought out in friends.

_From: Stiles_

_To: Lily_

**You know my dad? I'm there now, btw.**

As I pushed open the door, I saw Stiles sitting in the pleather covered, cushioned seats, with his head in his hands, and both his legs shaking, slightly. I walked over towards him, kneeling on the floor, and my hands holding onto his knees. He looked up at me, surprised, and smiled, but it was only a small one, so I knew something was wrong.

I voiced my concern, and he simply told me, "It's nothing. You said you were hungry, right?"

And he left it at that. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, I wanted him to open up to me, but I remembered we only met yesterday. He didn't really know me, and I didn't know him. That made me sad for some reason, but instead of saying anything, I just followed him out to his Jeep, and we drove in silence.

Suddenly, I wasn't so hungry anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Also, remember, it doesn't follow Season 2 exactly, but it goes in the same direction, okay? Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Stiles POV

I felt so bad for lying to this girl, but she really shouldn't be dragged down by my bullshit. There was no way I was going to tell her what was going on. There was too much shit going on right now.

Not 10 minutes before I got Lily's text, Scott had rang me, only to inform me that Gerard, A.K.A Mr CrazyFuckTard, had snuck into his room, and had Jackson, in his kanima form, attack his mother, right in front of him. Nobody even knows what he wants, all he keeps talking about it is finding Derek, and that wasn't going to happen, considering he's fucking MIA. Thinking of it, Isaac, Boyd _and _Erica were gone too. Could they have left us to clean up their messes? Oh, I swear on everything, if that's the case, I'm going to find Derek, skin him alive, and destroy everything he owns.

I'm sick of listening to him complain, and just fucking bitch about everything. And I mean everything. Literally, sometimes he tells me to breath quieter. Who does that? I mean really, nobody could be born that cold, so something happened to him. And that something would have been his families literal obliteration, but the thing was, he got revenge. Kate's dead, and so was Peter, so why is he still so angry? It seems to have been getting worse, recently. Did we miss something?

Lily and I had been drinking some coffee and milkshake, respectively, and some curly fries I had bought to share, and it had been pretty much quiet since dad's station. I felt so guilty for lying to her, but it was for her own good. I kept looking for smart, witty or even half way sane things to say, and my legs started bobbing, out of habit. I really shouldn't have taken some Adderal before I left the house, I can't relax enough to make things less awkward.

"Am I keeping you from something, Stiles? Because it's okay if I am, you can go. I shouldn't have just texted you out of the blue like that."

She sort of sounded sad when she said it, but had a fake smile on her face. I didn't like that, because her real smile was so bright, I couldn't help but smile back. It wasn't that I liked this girl, in _that _way, but she seemed to need a hand. I knew the feeling, what with being the only human in a group full of the supernaturally inclined, it did get a little lonely sometimes, and having Lily on the outside sort of kept me sane.

She started picking up her stuff, and I could see that she was leaving, so to stop her, I reached out and held her wrist.

"No! You're not, it's just that I took some Adderal earlier, and I really shouldn't have. I'm kind of super aware now, so please, just… stay?"

I must have been halfway shouting, because one of the employs looked at me disapprovingly. Lily noticed, because she started laughing, quietly, but it was a real one. She slipped off her jacket, and for the first time, I noticed her three tattoos. Her two wrist ones and I could faintly see one running along her right clavicle. She was wearing a short sleeved, v neck shirt, so they were pretty blatant.

"You've got tattoos? Look who's the regular old hipster!"

She laughed, out loud this time, and breathed a sigh of relief. I had too much shit to worry about for her to stop talking to me. She was the breath of fresh air I craved. The sense of normalcy was something that I craved, something that I needed to survive.

"Yeah, I've got 9. I'm pierced, too, but you'll have to take me on more than one date to see them all."

I chuckled to myself, and scratched behind my head; another habit I picked up from my dad. I pointed at the small Japanese symbol on her right wrist and asked what it meant.

She replied with, "It means Ao. It's my middle name. It means blue, hence the hair."

I tugged at a few strands of them, and she swatted my hands away. We looked like a irregularly regular couple, and I haven't been happier in such a long time. Things with Scott are weird, because he's still hooked on Allison. Derek's being a dick, and Lydia looks like she's going to fall apart at any moment. Jackson is a complete nutcase, and it looks like we're going to have to kill him, and even though he's a douche, I don't really want that one my conscience.

"So, tell me about your day, Stiles. How do you have fun?"

Silently, I thanked her for the topic change, because I was sending myself insane thinking about a way to get out of this. She's always surprising me, and it's strange to think, I've only known her for day and a bit, but it feels like much longer than that.

"Well, when I'm not robbing banks, I like to steal from the rich and give to the poor."

I said this with probably the most sarcasm ever, and she rolled her eyes at me, poking me in my chest, and I had to rub at the area, because it did hurt, _just a little_. I answered truthfully, in the end, by saying, "Not much. I'm on the lacrosse team, but we're shit, so that's that. I spend a lot of time at home, or with Scott, my… friend."

She quirked an eyebrow up at me, and replied, "You're… friend? You want to talk about it?"

I shook my head, and rubbed at the nape of my neck, again, for probably the 30th time. I picked at imaginary fluff on my shirt, just so I wouldn't have to look into her really deep, bright green eyes, and focused on everything but her face. I knew she was scrutinising my reaction but, thankfully, didn't press into the topic. She went back to sipping her coffee, and the silence returned, but with much less awkwardness.

"What about you? What do you do for fun?"

The question was bullshit, and she knew it, but I had to keep her talking. I needed to stay off the subject of 'pack problems' and right now, she was the perfect distraction.

She replied with a shrug, "Nothing really. I surf, I box, I study, that's about it. I love comics, but sometimes I hate movies, they fuck everything up for me."

At the mention of comics, my eyes noticeably lighten, and we fell head-first into a conversation that would make any nerd orgasm. As she answered every question I threw at her, Lily started climbing the ranks of 'best-friend worthy' and by the end of it, I was ready to haul ass, just to make this girl want to spend time with me.

Now don't get me wrong, she's very beautiful, and I rarely ever use that word, due to my inherited awkwardness and hatred of all this cutesy, but I just don't see myself going down that road. I mean, there's just something about her that warns me away from her. It's like something it telling me that she's not available, and a part of me is fine with that. I'm good with this amazing girl just being my friend.

By the time were finished discussing which Batman film was best, it was way past 11pm, so there was no way I was letting her walk home alone. I had a pack meeting in about 10 minutes, and when I saw that, I had a mini-panic attack. Derek was going to skin me alive, if I missed anymore stupid pack-meetings. Because my Jeep is the bag of shit that it is, it stalled about 80 times during the whole journey, and by the time I got her home, it was quarter to midnight.

We said the usual goodbyes and she gave me a hug, and I gladly returned it. When she got to her door, she looked under the rug, and found her keys. That wasn't at all safe but I let it go. She unlocked her door, and waved at me. It was only after her door was shut, and I was making my way to the demon's quarters, AKA Derek's house, that I realised how much shit I truly was in.

I pulled up to his burnt, seemingly abandoned house, and as soon as I stepped out, I was being man-handled by the aforementioned asshole, Derek. His hands were holding me in place, and I really had no choice but to look at him. As I did, I noticed he wasn't focused on me, but my Jeep. Oh God, please, don't break her, don't break her, don't break her, don't break her. I repeated my mantra, over and over and over, until I forgot what the words meant, but I didn't hear any screeching, a tell-tale sign of car doors being torn off their hinges.

In fact, Derek had let me go, and was now half-in, half-out of my Jeep, sniffing like his life literally depended on it. He was growling to himself, and pawing the seat that Lily was just in. What the fuck is he doing?

"Who was in here?"

He was talking to me? His voice was deadly calm, but there was something in his tone, almost telling me that if I fucked around, he would, in fact, tear my limbs from my body.

"A friend, I met her yesterday, why?"

His shoulders stiffened, noticeably, and his breathing started coming out harsher. What was happening right now? I was so confused, and started looking around, for some help, only to see Mr. Ex-Alpha, Peter Hale, leaning against one of the pillars. I double-took, and started rubbing my eyes, because I really couldn't believe what I was seeing. How was he even here? Didn't he already die? More than die, he got fucking annihilated, right?

"What's her name, Stiles?"

I snapped back, looking at Derek, and what I saw was fucking frightening. Derek was hunched over, but he was facing me, so I could see his face. His eyes were wide, and a mix of red and green. It was like he couldn't even control himself enough to fully switch from human to wolf, or vise versa. His mouth was slack, and his skin had lost all colour. He looked like he had seen a ghost, and now was going into shock. A light sheen of sweat had beaded itself along his forehead and around his neck, and I had only ever seen him like this after he had been shot by wolf bane… And that wasn't at all a positive experience. He threatened to rip my throat out, multiple times that morning.

"H-Her name? It w-was Lily, not sure what it's short for.. I forgot to ask."

And that seemed to be all he needed. Derek was off like a flash, heading straight towards Lily's house, and me, being the slow human, really was praying he wouldn't hurt her. Peter, on the other hand, just smiled to himself, and walked back inside. And, eventually, I followed.

**OHHHHHHH, Derek's found her. What's going to happen? **

**Please, read on, because I loved writing this part. I mean, who wouldn't want a sweaty, heavy-breathing Derek at their door? As a matter of fact, you review this, and I'll send you one, on me :D**

**Thank you, and have a great day.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Also, remember, it doesn****'****t follow Season 2 exactly, but it goes in the same direction, okay? Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**Also, this chapter is dedicated to two special reviewers. Lillian, who is going away on a trip soon and asked for an update, and "Teen Wolf Girl", who was the first person to call you guys my 'fans'. I can't even explain how much that review meant to me, so thank you guys. You make everything worth it. Have an especially awesome day, and I love you all, so very much.**

Derek POV -Aw Yeah-

I could smell her. I wasn't going crazy. She was in Stiles' shitty Jeep, she had been in there now not long ago. Her scent hadn't changed in the last 3 years. It still smelt of everything good in this world. Like strawberries, honey and fresh rain. She smelt of home. She smelt like reassurance, and honestly, she smelt good. She smelt so good, I just wanted to find her, keep her with me, smother her in everything that is me, and never let her go. Not again, I couldn't do it again. I could deal with her leaving me again.

I got the her house in record time, and just looked at it. The top windows were open, but I couldn't climb through them, they were too small for me to fit into. I would have to do this the old fashioned way, the door. I looked down at what I was wearing, a grey fitted tank top and a pair of dark jeans. I could have scrubbed up a little. I raked a hand over my face, and found that my face might as well have had multiple hamsters, just sitting all over it. I needed a shave, now. I couldn't let her see me like this.

I was supposed to show her that I was fine without her. That I survived, and that I was okay. I wanted her to be proud of me, I really did. She was the only person who's approval ever mattered. Not even Laura's mattered as much as hers did and when she left I was broken. That was the first time, since my parents death, that I cried. I cried myself to sleep, and as Taylor Swift as that sounds, I did. It took me days to just be able to stand up, and go outside. I was gone within a week, and I didn't look back, until Laura disappeared a year ago.

I made no plans to return to Beacon Hills, simply because it held too many memories, both of joy and pure despair, and I would be lying if a part of my didn't wish she was here, when I returned. Of course she wasn't, and unfortunately, I hadn't had time to roll around in my pit of anguish, because Scott and Stiles were trespassing. That started off this whole escapade and I was proud of how far I had come. I could only hope she was, too.

All of a sudden, Michael Jackson's The Way You Make Me Feel was playing, and I couldn't help but smile, because she was a huge MJ fan, back when we were 'together'. I could hear her singing along to the music, and her voice was exactly the same, it was just as bad. She couldn't sing to save her life, and she knew it, but she loved doing it, so I could never burst her bubble. Whenever I would get upset, she would sing this to me, and I would kiss her, hard, just to get her to shut up. It worked though, I would always smile when she was around.

I could imagine her, with her pig-tails, a pair of socks and one of my shirts, completely over sized on her, hanging past her knees, and falling unceremoniously over her hands with a brush in her right hand, singing her little heart out, in the middle of her living room. She was just so cute, it made my heart tighten just to think of her like that.

"She's here, huh?"

I almost jumped at the voice of my idiot uncle, Peter, who just seems to appear at the most unnecessary times. I grunted in answer, and he just smiled to himself. I could see him surveying how looked, and he simply said, "You look like shit."

The glare I sent him showed what I was thinking, which simply was, 'I know.' I could hear her running up the stairs, and I expected her to go into her room, but she didn't, she ran to her parents room, and jumped into the bed. I could hear her heart beating steadily, and I could imagine her getting ready to go to sleep. I haven't felt this calm in years. I had a goofy, dumb smile on my face, and I knew Peter was sick of it, if the rolling of his eyes and scoff was anything to go by. I made a plan in my head, and I knew what I was going to do. I was going to see her tomorrow, and I was going to make her tell me why she left. Why she left Beacon Hills, and me behind, without so much as a second thought.

Lily POV

That song. It was his song. It was one of my favourite songs in the whole world, and I hadn't listened to it in almost 3 years, so when I came on, I couldn't help but get down. I was wearing a red pyjama tank, and a pair of black satin shorts, complete with my sheep slippers. I looked like a child, but I didn't care. In the middle of singing my heart out, it was like everything that had happened with him all those years ago just came to the forefront of my mind, like a crushing weight atop of my shoulders and I felt like it was choking the air in my body, and it was awfully overwhelming. My chest was tight and heavy, and I didn't want to cry again, so I just switched everything off and prayed that the feelings would just go away.

Everything had been delivered, just like Sheriff Stilinski promised, and although not everything was in it's correct place, I moved it around to suit my preferences. Now the living room truly looked like a living room. There was a large, suede, beige, brown and cream spotty rug in the middle of the floor, and there was a television and DVD/Video combo underneath it. They fitted all my appliances in the kitchen and in the bathroom, making sure everything worked properly. Now all I had to do was go out shopping for food, and I would be all set. They set up beds in both rooms, as well as chest of drawers, wardrobes and cupboards, leaving next to no space left in my old bedroom.

I decided to take my parents room, simply because it was bigger and I liked the feel of the room. It took me about an hour to move everything around and make it how I wanted, but I was happy with it. I would have to go down to the station tomorrow, and thank the Sheriff personally for doing this for me. Anyway, that was a thing for tomorrow, and frankly, I was dead-tired, and in need of a comforting sleep.

I had no clue that my ex-boyfriend and his crazed uncle were outside, both listening to my heart beat, as I drifted off to sleep.

**A little shorter than usual, but that's okay right?**

**Read and review, if you want, thanks.****  
**

**- T**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Also, remember, it doesn****'****t follow Season 2 exactly, but it goes in the same direction, okay? Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**Derek's house is still burnt to hell, but the boiler and basics still work. I know, strange, but just letting you all know :D**

Derek POV

As soon as Peter and I got back to the house, I sprinted straight to the bathroom, to have a long, scalding shower, scrubbing every inch of my body, till I was blisteringly red and irritated. I stayed under the intense spray of the shower for the longest time, just thinking about Lilac. I needed to get her scent out of my mind, so I went straight to bed, and surprise, surprise, I dreamt of her. She was perfect in everyway, she balanced me out, and made me a better person. When she left, I honestly had nothing to live for.

I left Beacon Hills and just roamed around, without much purpose, for the better part of a year, and it was only when I heard about Laura being missing that I went straight back to California. Back to Beacon Hills. All that shit with Peter, it was an outlet, for the pain that I was feeling from when Lily left me. The fighting, the bloodshed, the anger, the pain. It was all too much to bare, so I just didn't. I stopped thinking, stopped feeling, and just lead.

Or at least, I tried. Evidently, I wasn't doing all that great of a job, considering 2 of my Betas left, to join another pack, none the less. I couldn't even blame Erica or Boyd, I really couldn't. I knew I was a bad Alpha. As emotionless as I tried to be, I always ended up leading with it. There were supposed to be two Alphas, the Alpha female and the male.

She was supposed to be my Alpha female, but before we could even think about taking that step, she was gone. I would have preferred if she just told me that she didn't want to be with me, I would have preferred if she just talked to me, because then maybe I would have been able to convince her otherwise, but she just left. One second she was there, then she wasn't.

-Morning-

Waking up early in the morning had never been a problem for me, I was a light sleeper, so I was more than surprised when I checked my phone; Stiles and Scott forced me buy this piece of crap phone, just so things would be simpler when it came to pack meetings and whatnot, and found that it was nearly midday. I rolled out of bed, and ran straight into the bathroom, just to have an equally long, but cold shower, considering the dream I had had of Lily was less that decent.

I wanted to hate her, I should have hated her. She put me through hell, and now, without even knowing it, dragged me back by the scruff of my collar. Here I was, sweating and shaking, at the very thought of seeing her green eyes again, and she probably doesn't even care about me anymore. She's probably forgotten me, and I wouldn't be surprised if she's moved on. Oh, what if she's with someone else? What if she's got a boyfriend, a fiancée… A husband?

The very thought of someone else touching her had me hurtling my fist straight into the wall, with such power it cracked a few and they fell to the floor. My hands were visibly shaking, and my claws had sheathed. The fist that I sent into the wall was bleeding, but I wasn't worried. Werewolf healing.

I stepped out of the shower, turning it off as I went and looked in the mirror and found my eyes were blood red, and I looked like I was ready for war. I saw that I had fully wolfed-out. Damn. I knew that she was a touchy subject for my wolf, but I didn't think it was this bad. My anger was genuinely was going to be the death of me, but I knew I had to calm myself down, so I sat back, on the cold floor and started breathing. I started thinking of the good times, the days where she would just call me out of the blue, or when she would laugh at my stupid, corny jokes, just to make me feel batter about my day, and before I knew it, my inner wolf was more-or-less asleep, considering how calm he was.

I stood up, reached into the mirror-medicine cupboard mix and pulled out a bottle of shaving cream. Normally, I hated shaving, because it made my face colder during the day; I think that's a werewolf thing, I'm not sure. I lathered the foam over my hands and rubbed it all over my chin, jaw, neck and cheeks, and went to shaving. I was shit at shaving, so I cut myself a few times, but they healed quickly enough, and afterwards, I brushed my teeth, once, twice, then a third time. It's always been something that I did, even when I was younger.

Because I was a werewolf, in our natural state, we were naked, and that's how I liked to stay. I don't know why, it just felt normal to me. I padded back into my room, towel-less, and looked through my suitcase. I didn't hang my clothes up in the wardrobes, simply because if I did, the wardrobe would collapse. I pulled out a pair of boxer-briefs, and a grey tight t-shirt, and a pair of dark jeans. Even before I met Lily, before my parents died, I never wore colourful clothes. Personally, on me, I thought I looked like a moron, especially because half the time, I was glaring at everything. I knew I had a problem, but I really didn't care what people thought of me. I had nothing to be happy about, and I wasn't going to make myself pretend just so others felt more comfortable around me.

Quickly, I got dressed, and before I knew it, I was throwing on a pair of sneakers and my jacket, and I was in my Mercedes, driving towards Lily's house, like my life depended on it. When I got there, I couldn't hear anyone's heartbeats inside, and my heart dropped. Did she leave again? Oh God, where did she go? I stopped my car, and stepped out. I pulled the sunglasses that I had pushed onto my face, to keep the sun out of my face, and hung them in the middle of my chest, and walked, ever so slowly, towards her front door. I knew she wasn't inside, but her scent was so strong around here, I couldn't help but be drawn towards it.

I sat on the top step that led to her front door, and closed my eyes. I have no clue how long I sat there, but when I opened my eyes, I saw Stiles standing there, staring at me like I was crazy. What is he doing here? Now that I think about it, she was in his car… Are they? No, that's stupid. But.. What was she doing there?

"Derek, why are you here?"

That simple question set of so many alarm bells in my mind, and I couldn't help but growl when he asked it. Who was he to ask _me _what _I _was doing outside _my _mates' house. But, before I could even respond, his phone went off, and I believe the song was Helena, by My Chemical Romance, and he answered it, far too quickly for me to not be suspicious.

"Hey Simba, you okay? Yeah, I'm good. Huh, o-okay, I'll meet you. Where? Okay, 20 minutes? Okay, good, see you soon. Yeah, I love you too, stupid."

Whoever Stiles was talking clearly seemed to know him very well, and a part of me wanted to know who this 'Simba' was. Obviously they were pretty close. Could this be a girl? Or a boy? Either way, I wanted to know who Stiles was interested in, especially since Allison and Scott's 'romance' basically almost destroyed the entire pack, and I'd rather die than allow that to happen again. I was about to voice my concern, when Stiles waved, telling me he had to go, and ran off, back towards his shitty Jeep.

I didn't even have to energy to stop him, so I just let him go. I was in too much of a good mood, having been around my mates scent for so long. Lazily, and with a goofy smile on my face, I walked back towards my Merc, and drove away, not noticing the menacingly crimson eyes, lurking in the forest near Lily's house.

**Oooooh, who could it be? Peter? Another Alpha? Who knows? Oh wait, that's right, I do. :D**

**~ultimate troll-ing~**

**Have a great day, guys (:**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Stiles POV

After seeing Derek just sprawled out on Lily's front step, I knew I needed to see her. It was a God-send that she called me, just as Derek opened his mouth, because I really had no clue as to what I was going to say. As I was driving, I was wondering why Derek was outside her house, out of all the homes in the entirety of Beacon Hills. Maybe she knew Derek, back when she lived here before? No, that's stupid. Derek doesn't have friends. He has a pack, enemies and that's that. He sees things in black and white, which I can only imagine gets incredibly boring, and tiring after a while. What is life without colour? Without laughter, friends and family? I don't even want to think about it.

I had received a text off of Lily asking me to meet her at her house, as soon as I finished school that day, and that's what I did. It was now around half 3 on a Friday and after about 10 minutes of driving, I arrived at the local mall, and parked my car in the delegated spot. As quickly as possible, I started to walk towards the Starbucks, where a waiting Lily was sitting, ever so patiently, sipping on a mug of what I can only imagine would be white mocha chocolate, with a frothy top. She ordered that last time, so I can only guess that that's what she normally gets. I saw her bright blonde and blue hair, in a high, bobbing bun and found that she was facing the other way, towards the towering, glass window, showing the bright Friday afternoon. I had a lacrosse game later today, so I was going to invite her along, but I was kind of nervous, considering I was absolutely shit at it.

I placed my hands over her eyes, and whispered, "Guess who?"

She jumped out of her skin, and her knees hit the underside of the table, causing some of her, yeah, you guessed it, white mocha chocolate, to spill over the sides, onto the table, and soak into some of the napkins. I apologised, profusely, however the Cheshire cat grin that was on my face made it seem much less authentic. I sat opposite her and placed my hands on my knees, which were bobbing to the rhythm that was coming out of the speakers, clean across the mall. I was due an Adderal pill, and I knew it.

"How have you been, Simba?"

She rolled her eyes, and huffed heavily. I laughed, because I knew she hated the nickname.

"If you can call me that, I should get to call you something. What's your favourite food?"

Before I could even think about it, I had already shouted, rather loudly, actually, "CURLY FRIES!"

Her eyebrows scrunched together for a few seconds, and then a smug, sly smile crept up to her lips, and in that moment, I was truly afraid of her.

"I got it. You're nickname shall be… Spud."

What? Wait a second, 'Spud'? My jaw slackened, and my eyebrows were more or less in my hairline, and I knew I looked completely stupid, but in that moment I didn't care. She's going to call me Spud? Of all the odd, crazy, embarrassing nicknames, she came up with Spud? As in potatoes? I groaned, loudly, and rubbed the heel of my palm into my eye sockets. I put my head in my hands, and she laughed at me.

"Spud, you want anything to eat? I'm buying?"

She was placating me, I knew it, she knew it, but I let her. I needed to be consoled right now, what with my new name being Spud. Is this my life now? Being known as 'Spud Stilinski'? Oh God, smite my now. I think that it's worse than Genim. _Who calls their infant child Genim?_ No, nothing is worse than that godforsaken name. And I have my parents to thank for that. Thanks, Mama and Papa Stilinski. Thinking of my mother only made me burrow my face further into my hands, and I thought I heard Lily's chair scraping against the floors. She placed her hands on my shoulders and I turned to look at her. I probably had red eyes and a nose to match it, but I refused to cry in front of her. I didn't cry.. Not when people were around at least.

I hid behind my steel wall of sarcasm and my knack for getting into trouble and annoying big, bad, alpha wolves, just so they didn't see, or more likely smell, my sadness. How was it that this one girl, who I had only met two days ago, mean so much to me? I mean, I saw her as another me. She was lost, alone and sad, but tried to hide it. She tried so hard, it was almost pathetic. I knew I was the same.

Lily took my hands away, and sat in my lap, holding my face in the crook of her neck. You see, this looked increasingly sexual on the outside, but it really wasn't. I didn't know why, but sitting here, just listening to her breathing and her heart beating, so softly, calmed me down, more than any pill could. She was like my anchor, keeping me sane. Hey, I'm a very emotional guy, sue me, I don't care. My arms had wound their way around her thin waist and I couldn't tell you how long we sat here like this, in silence. It was only when I heard the very obnoxious, and irritatingly loud voice of Jackson, the fucking one-man Cirque du Soleil, shouting particularly rude comments. Something about Lily's tits, and tea bagging. It was a cluster-fuck of awkward, until I decided to shut him up. He had obviously been sent here, by Gerard, to piss me off and he was doing just that, actually.

The surprising thing was, though, that before I could even think of a smart-ass remark, that could have gotten my ass beaten from here to Mars, Lily stepped in, with a immaculately timed, "Hey, I didn't realise us being here offended you so much, so yeah, I'm sorry, but if that's the case, there's the exit. Goodbye."

The laugh that escaped my mouth was nothing short of a howl. I couldn't hold it in, and the look on Jackson's face was indeed priceless. I looked up, and she was grinning at me. We could hear Jackson spluttering in the background, but he suddenly became unimportant, considering my fucking phone decided to start vibrated, right underneath Lily's ass and she shot up clean into the air, squealing as she did so.

I fished my phone out of my pocket and found it was from an unknown number. I turned to the now-red faced Lily and whispered, "Sorry, Simba, let me get this, okay?"

She nodded in approval and I started walking outside and answered the call.

"Hello? Who's this?"

_"If you tell any of your werewolf friends about this, I will kill your father. Now that I've got your attention, Stilinski, I'm going to need you. Tonight. At the lacrosse game. Things are going to get mighty interesting. I need Derek Hale there, and if he isn't, you're dad is the first on my list of people to let Jackson rip apart. Then, of course, you're best friend, Scott, and that new bitch, what's her name? Anyway, you do as I say, or they all die. Goodbye, Stilinski. I hope you do what's best**.**"_

And then, Gerard promptly hung the fuck up, and left me feeling a million times worse than I had a moment ago. I knew I looked a state, my heart tunnelling along a mile a minute, and sweat prickling all over my body. A shudder of pure anguish rolled sickeningly through my body, and I fought off the urge to vomit everything I just so happened to _not _eat this morning. Sometimes, I truly hated my life.

**Done :D**

**I really hated this chapter, simply because of Gerard, the asshole. I really did not want to make Stiles go through any type of angst, simply because he's the epitome of perfection, however if I didn't I wouldn't know how to make this work, so bare with me :D Jackson's still an asshole, but it's not his fault. Well, not entirely anyway. Should I make him good, or keep him evil? Leave your thoughts. Anyway, have a great day, and I love you guys.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Lily POV

After Stiles excused himself, I was left alone with my thoughts, or at least I was alone, until the jackass from earlier decided to take up the seat opposite me; the one that Stiles was just sitting in. He had a cocky, arrogant smile on his face, and there was this predatory look in his eyes. It was very disconcerting, especially considering I could see the slight elongation of his canines, and his irises were twitching, switching very quickly from a bright green to a light blue. If I weren't so close, and paid so much attention to things I really shouldn't be paying attention to, I wouldn't have even noticed.

"Hey… What's your name, gorgeous?"

I raised on perfectly shaped eyebrow, put my elbows on the table, and laid my chin in knuckles, never once breaking eye contact with him.

"Jackson, right? You got a last name?"

My tone was steady, and completely unwavering. I stared at him, and he watched me, not moving, or blinking, and it seemed like neither of us were breathing. I felt like something was going to happen, all the noise behind me bled out, and it was just me and him.

"Whittemore. Jackson Whittemore, and yourself?"

He pulled his right hand out from under the table, and laid it out, ready for me to shake. I looked at it, warily, and he laughed, saying, "It's just a hand. It's not gonna bite."

I chuckled, at this, and grabbed his hand, in a soft, but firm grip, and shook it gently, with a slight nod of my head, and said lightly, "Williams, Lilac Williams. Nice to meet you."

After about 20 minutes of talking with Jackson, my brain caught up with my body and I realised Stiles hadn't come back yet. I wondered silently if he was okay, and Jackson seemed to notice that I was miles away. He tapped my palm with his index finger and my eyes snapped towards his, and he was frowning a little.

"I'm sorry, I was somewhere else completely. I was just wondering whe-"

"Stilinski? What's up with him anyway? Where did you two meet?"

He seemed rather interested, but with guys you could never know.

"I met him a few days ago and-"

"DAYS AGO? And you're that close? I mean damn, I didn't know Stilinski was that smooth."

I laughed at him, completely over-looking the fact that he did, intentionally or not, insult me and my integrity. I explained to him that Stiles and my relationship was completely platonic, with absolutely no romantic feelings, whatsoever. I even went so far as to tell him that I saw Stiles as a little brother, or something of that stature. He seemed incredibly sceptical, but nodded, nonetheless. After the sky started to get darker, and the mall became increasable empty, Jackson offered to drive me home, especially considering Stiles did _not _come back after taking the call. To say I was pissed off was an understatement.

We were sitting, rather comfortably, in Jackson's silver Aston Martin DB9, watching the trees skim by and the only sound being the radio playing smooth jazz music. The seats were heated and the windows were wound up, meaning the inside of the car was rather warm. I decided to keep my grey, zip-up jacket off, fiddling with it in my hands, and I was wearing a pair of pastel green jeans and a cream button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows, showing my two wrist tattoos clearly, and a pair of light brown Converse.

Out of my peripherals, I could see Jackson opening his mouth, then deciding against saying whatever it was he wanted to say, and closing it again. This happened about 4 or 5 times before I couldn't take it.

I said, rather sharply, and with a sigh, "Is there something you want to say, Jackson? Because you really, really are going to drive me crazy if you keep doing that."

I turned to look at him, and saw the anguished look in his eyes, and couldn't help being floored by it. He was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other was pulling at his hair, and he was switching between looking at me, and the road. He seemed very disturbed by something, and if the look in his eyes was anything to go by, it was hurting him physically to keep it inside. Out of nowhere, Jackson suddenly swerves the car, parking it directly in front of a small, yet open passageway, leading into the forest.

I snapped my head towards him, and he was watching me, as if he was measuring my reaction. Obviously, I responded in the way any person would and that was by demanding an explanation.

"What the fuck, Jackson? I don't live anywhere near here, what was with the fucking James Bond 180 turn? Seriously, shit like that can give a bitch a heart attack!"

He was still watching me, but now his gaze was more amused over anything else, and he had a slight smile tugging at his lips, the fucking jackass.

"I was just wondering, would you want to come to my lacrosse game later today?"

I punched his shoulder, and started smiling, more out of nerves than anything, and I told him I would. I wanted to see what this lacrosse was all about, because Stiles kept going on about it the other day.

"Apparently, your teams shit, though?"

Jackson's smile faded, but his eyes still held their amusement, so I knew he wasn't angry at me, and he poked me in my upper arm, causing a twinge op pain, and he told me to shut up.

"We're not shit, we're just… biding our time."

I laughed out loud at his indignation and just ordered him to carry on driving, but warned if he ever pulled a stunt like that again, I would really hurt him and his over-sized ego. Once again, he just told me to shut up, and went back to driving me home.

I directed him, and after a short, but the most calm and smooth journey I had ever had, he parked the car right at the bottom of my driveway and looked up at my house. It was homely, I liked it, simply because it held all those memories and those good times inside each floorboard and each tile. It was a two storey, industrial styled house, complete with garage and a rather large and wide front garden.

The house itself was raised slightly on foundations, keeping it safe from flooding and such, and to reach the front door, there were three wooden steps. The front door was white, and there was a picket fence to match it, bordering the entire property. There were 8 windows at the face of the property, but a total of 14 all together. The two on the top right hand side were the top floors bathroom, and the other was my parents bedroom. My old bedrooms window was located at the back of the property, as did the kitchen and bottom floor bathroom.

The entire house was kept in pristine condition when my mother was alive. When she wasn't taking care of my father and I, she was generally cleaning the house, which struck me as quite odd, considering she was one of the most 'equal-rights, blah, feminism blah'-type of woman you could have ever met.

"You live here with your parents?"

I was snapped out of my trance, and turned my attentions to Jackson. When it became clear that I hadn't heard what he had said, he repeated, and I started to smile, sadly, to myself.

"No. I live alone."

I could see the questioning glace he sent my way, and I could see the question in his eyes. I sighed before answering, and tried to keep my tone calm, but the tremors were obvious, especially to Jackson.

"My… My parents are dead."

As I said this, I pushed open the car doors and walked outside, taking out my keys, and getting ready to open up my front door. As I reached my door, heard Jackson call out, "They'd be proud of you."

And he drove away, speeding off, leaving nothing behind him but a trail of dust. As I closed the door behind me, I could see the outline of someone standing in the far corner of the living room, and because the lights were still off, I couldn't see who it was. Well that was until they spoke, and as they did, I felt my blood run cold, and my heart stopped beating, if only for a second.

"Hello, Lilac. How have you been lately?"

**Done :O **

**Who do you think it was, guys? Leave your thoughts, and I hope you have a great day.**

**I love yo faces, and I'll see you tomorrow… Yeah, I watch too much PhillyD, sue me.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

As soon as I heard his voice, I was hurtling anything in my vicinity in his general direction, praying that I somehow hit him, and planned of making my escape soon after. Unfortunately, because of his damned werewolf reflexes, he dodged every single item I sent his way. With every step he took, I retreated one, and before I knew it, I was flat-back against the door, with the one and only Peter Hale standing toe-to-toe with me, his hands slamming into the door with such force that it shook under the weight of them.

"Well that wasn't polite, now was it, Lily?"

That stupid, frightening, feral smile on his face made me incredibly uncomfortable, and I started to fidget, playing with my fingers, looking towards to floor, with my eyes closed, hoping that this was just a dream. I mean, three years ago Peter was in the hospital, and I was a regular visitor.

-**Flashback**-

During the day, I would volunteer at the hospital, which was where my mother worked as a mid-wife, and because I was only 14, I was usually left alone in the play-area for the children. Obviously, over time, I just got so fucking _bored, _so I ended up going on a little journey. The second floor of the hospital was eerily silent, and sent chills up and down my spine, but I kept on, looking for something to entertain myself. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but it did lead me to _him._

I was walking around, aimlessly, for a few minutes, when I overheard a voice, coming from Room 103. Slowly, I pushed open the door, and saw a man, sitting in a wheelchair, staring out of the window, completely ignoring the other man, who seemed to be pleading with him.

"Uncle, please, just… Can you really not hear me? It's me, your nephew. Please… I just-"

I may or may not have been too eager to listen in on this one-sided conversation and pushed the door open, and landed face down, on my hands and knees, in front of the other guy. I looked up at him, and my breathing literally stopped. I think if I was paying more attention to the man in the wheelchair, I would have noticed how his ears twitched at the sound of me entering, or how his shoulders seemed to unknowingly tense at the echo of my heartbeat thundering on, like a freight train, but I was too focused on this gorgeous, dazzling, hunk of a man in front of me.

His hair was jet black, and was flat, laying precariously on his head, as if I he had just woken up, and a few tufts were slightly shadowing his right eye. Oh his eyes, they were a magnificent, brilliant shade of emerald, whereas mine were more of a watered-down, mossy green. They seemed to glitter with intensity and knowledge, even though the room was barely lit. His skin was smooth and completely blemish-free, but I could see that he had 5 o'clock shadow, covering his chin, neck, cheeks and behind his ears. His lips were thin, but so deliciously perfect, I just wanted to bite them.

"Who are you?"

His voice was deep and echoed around the completely silent room, however I could hear a hollowness, and that made my heart clench, uncomfortably.

"M-my name is L-Lily, I was just l-looking around, s-sorry."

He seemed to be very disturbed by this, but something more important came to mind, obviously, because the next minute, he was storming out of the room, straight behind me and down the cold, quiet corridor. That was my first meeting with Derek, and unfortunately, it wasn't my last.

-**Present**-

Taking the time to relax, and get my head together, I knocked Peter's hands away from my head, and pushed at his chest, suddenly filled with some unknown strength and power, and said, "You're supposed to be in the hospital."

It was subdued, but anyone could hear the anger behind the statement.

"I just came to say hello to my favourite visitor. How have you been, lately? I mean, what's it been? 2 years?"

Oh, he was angry too, but he was trying to play it off as being nonchalant. I could hear it in his voice; the hurt, the betrayal, all of it. You see, as much of a hunter as I am, I'm also a woman. I don't know where all this comes from, but I tend to pay attention to the slightest changes in people around me, and am always on high alert, until I am comfortable with somebody. It doesn't take long to get to know me, and you can see that, I mean I've known Stiles for less than a week and I know he's very important to me. Even Jackson, and he was a complete dick to me at first.

"3, actually. And honestly, Peter, I'm sorry. I know you don't get it, but I had to leave. I couldn't deal with it, and I had to go. I hurt you, I hurt him, I hurt everyone, but I had to, for me."

I stepped closer to him, and tried to touch his shoulder, but he hit my hand away. Peter was a good 35 years old, but I'm seeing a childishness in him that was never present back then. Whenever I would sneak into his room, just telling him about myself, my family, my life, playing my guitar for him, or talking about my day, his eyes were always filled with regret, pain and pure unadulterated fury. It was like he was so frustrated that he couldn't move and avenge his family, he was going crazy. I wouldn't have been surprised if he was clinically insane right now, but that s a conversation for another time.

"You _had _to? You didn't have to do anything! You could have stayed! You were the only person who visited me, who spoke to me, and I got used to you being there, telling me stupid shit I didn't need to hear. No matter how annoying you got, or idiotic the story was, you'd still talk to me. You spoke to me, like I was normal. Even after you found out, you still came. But then, one day, you just stopped turning up. Derek moved to New York after telling me you'd left. You know, I really was mad at you for a while. I actually planned on finding you, and killing you… But it just never happened. After I started being able to walk, talk, and shift on my own, I never had the urge to hurt you. I think it's because I always knew you'd come back, but I never thought you'd take so _fucking _long!"

Throughout this monologue, Peter alternated between pointing and shouting at me, to tearing at his hair and shaking. I swear he almost shifted, too. I didn't know why I did, but I knew how and that I needed to calm him down, so I did. I held his clawed hands in my own, ignoring the stabbing pain I felt as his nails dug into my palms, accidentally, and pulled him to me, falling to the floor, clutching him to my chest, his head laying in my chest. We sat like that for such a long time, and when he moved, I felt my legs go numb and the pins and needles attacking my calves.

"I'm sorry."

It was such a simple, stupid thing to say, but it was necessary. We said it in unison, and as I looked into his eyes, I knew everything was okay. We were okay, and I was happy with that. I looked up at the clock, and found that it was quarter to 6 in the evening. I shot up, leaving a very dazed and confused Peter in my wake, running at full speed to the bathroom, turning the shower on and jumping in. Hastily, I scrubbed at every inch of my skin, until I was red, and padded out of the bathroom, once more in the obnoxiously orange towel I loved so much, into my new bedroom.

I had packed everything away, and set up all of the furniture in the room. The walls were the perfect shade of beige, and the carpet was a creamy brown. They contrasted in the best possible way, and I couldn't bare to change them. The walk-in wardrobe also doubled as a mirror, as each door was a panel of a mirror. The room itself was rather large, and the ceiling was very high; in the center there is a circular, pseudo-crystal piece, making the entire room sparkle.

I pulled out a pair of clean underwear, from the matching chocolate brown drawer next to the wardrobe and I threw open the cupboard and looked around for something cute, but conservative to wear, especially considering it's a sports game. I found a pair of clean, black underwear and some skinny navy blue jeans, and a khaki short sleeved shirt and a I decided on the grey jacket I had worn today, simply for comfort.

I pulled out a pair of grey Vans from my shoe collection and got dressed. I straightened my hair, and pulled it up in a high ponytail, and as per usual, I changed my tongue piercing, from the typical black one to a bright green piercing. I changed all my other ear piercings to matching small star and moon studs, and my scaffolding was a thick, metal pole, going along the ridge of my left ear. I noticed that the blue ends of my hair were losing their brightness, and decided that I was going to have to dye it again pretty soon. I needed to find a decent hairdressers, and soon.

After I finished to getting ready, I came downstairs to find Peter neck-deep in Cheetos and Doritos packets, and the miniature bottle of Coke I had bought earlier today, downing it in seconds. I swear, werewolves and their damn stomachs. They were like bottomless pits, leading to the abyss of nothingness and doom. I picked up my keys, from the floor, where they had been thrown and shaking them, so they made a noise, alerting the ever-so oblivious Peter that it was time to leave.

I looked around the room, and found it was in a pretty bad way, and decided to clean up, after Jackson's game, and left the house, with Peter in tow.

"I've got to go, Lily. Pack stuff… I'll see you later?"

He said it almost questioningly, and I felt a tug in my stomach, and I had to hug him one more time. He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me in the air, twirling me a little, before setting me on my feet, and waving me off.

"Oh, Lily, before I forget… You need to watch your back. I know why you left, I know about your parents, I know who they are, well, were. I know why you came back. And, I'm not the only one. Be careful."

And he turned, walking away into the forest, surrounding my home.

What. A. Dick.

**Okay, now this is where it goes back to where teen wolf picked it up. Oh my god, 12 chapters for literally about 2 episodes? Oh God. Anyway, I hope you're enjoying it, I love you guys. Have a great day :D**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**Longest chapter I've written, I think. Oh God.**

After that overtly cryptic message from the almighty and all-wise Peter Hale, I hopped onto my new bike and started it up. The bike itself was completely black, including the rubber around the wheels however the tyres were a chrome and the handles were a silver grey. There was no writing, or any additional designs on the bike, and that's why I liked it so much. It was conservative, but was able to look completely bad-ass while doing so.

I remembered in a round-about way where the school was located, from back when I used to live here, and my mother would take me to the library, which was placed directly across from the school, but was never used, by anybody, but me and a few veterans that called the library a home away from home.

I pulled up in the designated car park, only to find barely any spaces, therefore being forced to park unsteadily on the sidewalk, leading up to the school. It wasn't ideal, considering anyone could just walk past and scratch the side of my bike, but I promised Jackson I would come to his game.

I hadn't spoken to Stiles since he ditched me at Starbucks, and like anyone else, I was sort of pissed off, especially because he was only supposed to answer the phone. After a while, however, I began thinking that there could have been some problem with his father, what with him being Sheriff and all, so he had to leave, and I began feeling incredibly guilty and I was more that a little bit worried for him.

I followed the signs and directions that were placed around the front of the school, and found myself walking out into a very, _very _large field, and saw about 60 people all either standing in the middle of the drawn-on pitch, or screaming whilst standing or jumping around on the bleachers, pumping the players up and getting them excited and ready for the game. I walked towards the only bench with an open seat, which was right in the corner, on the top deck of the stand, on the far left hand side, and found myself being hugged, very tightly from the back. Startled, I turned my head at an angle, and could see a buzz cut. Stiles

As he set me down, I decided I was going to be fairly civil about the whole 'being-left-in-the-mall' thing, and I wasn't going to kick up a fuss. I mean, come on, it might have hurt to admit, but I've only known him for a few days. I'm not going to be his only friend, and even though I thought it sucked being left behind, I wasn't one to talk. Thinking about leaving brought a rather intense frown to my face, and Stiles took it as me being upset with him, and started throwing out rapid excuses and explanations, but he was speaking so quickly, even I was having trouble keeping up with him.

His quick-fire justifications were just what I needed, and he completely took my mind off my current problem, and I started smiling, and letting him know everything was okay between us.

"Have a great game, Spud, I know you'll be brilliant."

I rubbed his shoulder, comfortingly, as his cheeks tinged a light pink, showing his obvious nerves, but part of me wasn't sure if it was about the game he was about to play. Something about the way Stiles was acting was completely off. He was much more alert and tense than he was before, and I felt that it might have something to do with me. I didn't want to put Stiles out, but I had already promised Jackson I was going to watch him play. Speaking of Jackson, he was standing alone, off in the distance, staring at nothing in particular, and seemed to be in trance, of sorts. I half-ran, half-walked over to him, and as he didn't seem to hear me, I shoved him in his shoulder.

I expected some of the fun, playful Jackson I saw earlier in the day, but what I was rewarded with was the complete opposite. His left hand, which belonged to the arm I had just pushed, grasped my wrist in a dead-lock hold, and out of nowhere, I found myself with my back to him, and my arm bent at a very painful, odd and outrageous angle. If I wasn't flexible, it would have hurt far worse that it did. Half a second later, my training unknowingly kicked in, possibly being set off by being taken by surprise by Peter at my home not an hour earlier, and my body seemed to be moving on its own.

I tapped him right shin with the back of my right foot, while simultaneously curving my body in, making us look like we were spooning, and sent him kneeling to the floor, releasing my wrist slightly, although he still had a firm hold on it, which was exactly what I wanted. I span out, similar to that of a salsa dancer, and grasped his wrist, in the exact same was he had with mine, except with the opposite hand. I put pressure on his left wrist, making it spasm and without his permission, spring open, allowing my wrist to break free. I bent slightly, and moved to stand behind Jackson, and copied his earlier move, only turning it back on him. He know was knelt, being held in a crippling grip, with his arm, safely tucked behind his back, and my other hand poking at his left ribcage.

I started giggling, and something about Jackson's demeanour told me that he wasn't in the right state of mind. I released him, and began walking away, fully aware of the piercing stares that were following me, and had just been watching what went on between Jackson and I. When I was at a safe distance away, I turned slightly and I shouted, "Good luck, Jackson!"

I could see Stiles staring at me in a way that was positively frightful, and increasingly amusing at the same time. He looked like he wanted to throttle me, and then punch Jackson in the throat, which I probably would have loved to be there to see him try. I sat down, rather lightly, and ignored some of the question glances people were sending me, but in my peripherals, I could see the burning glare of a dainty red-head.

She didn't look pleased, in the slightest. She was clutching at something around her neck, and the look in her eyes was one of complete betrayal and heartbreak. Oh, so she was the girlfriend? No… I'll say she was the ex. Jackson did seem like he was popular with the ladies, and to some, he probably looked like an over-eager, arrogant ass-wipe, but when I was around him, I saw something. Something about him was wrong, lost and alone. No matter how small, but it was there.

After a straight minute of non-blinking, and out-right glaring, the girl turned away with a quiet 'hmmph' and crossed her arms over her chest. I cracked a half-smile, and glanced down at her, once I knew she was looking away. She was a pretty girl. Heck, she probably was beautiful to some people, but something about her… The same with Jackson, she seemed broken. She looked all made-up and perfect on the outside, but internally, she was crying out, and she needed help. Fuck, since when did I become Guidance Councillor for the Everyday Angst Tween?

The game hadn't started yet, but I could see that they were all getting warmed-up, so I decided to have a little look around. I could see families, praising and pointing at all the different players, but what really caught my eye was Stiles father. He was sitting next to a brunette, but because I was behind, I couldn't see her face, but they seemed to know each other. If I was remembering correctly, Stiles had told me his mother had passed away, due to illness, when he was only young, and his father hadn't remarried. Hmm, that is most peculiar. Especially considering they were laughing, and sitting much closer than those of platonic relationships would sit. But, hey, whatever floats his fathers boat, I suppose.

Snapping my attention from the people around me, when I heard the harsh whistle signalling the beginning of the game. I looked for the obvious '24' telling me where Stiles was, but found him, sitting on the bench, whispering with '14', but I had no clue who that was. I was much to far away to even hope to overhear what they were talking about, and even if I was, I don't think I would have, considering it's very rude and intrusive. I went back to watching the game, and saw '37' playing like he was fighting for his life, and I knew immediately that he was Jackson. He had this thing about him, it was like he always wanted everyone to praise him, and think of him in a good light, and I could only imagine that if they didn't, he'd assume they were either jealous, or just irrelevant, but that quiet, annoying, vindictive voice in the back of his mind nagged and nagged away until he caved, and pushed back, thus resulting in everyone's distaste in him as a person.

I watched as the opposing team literally thrashed Jackson's, and noticed that one player, number '14' kept hitting into his team mates, sending them off. Does this game not have fouls, or something? Because I'm sure that that's against the rules. Oh well, I'm finally seeing a little bit of action; the game was getting a little boring. After the 3rd and final substitute was sent off, subsequently with '14' and Jackson slammed into him with a force I knew would leave bruises, and possibly a broken ligament. Stiles was sent on, and oh, the poor thing, looked so out of place, and vulnerable.

His dad, however, was losing his mind, he was that excited. It was like he finally was able to show how proud he was of Stiles, through this game. Nothing could be said or explained of the spectacle the Sheriff made of himself, and even though he was kind of pink in the face, a fool could see the pride in his eyes, and I'm sure Stiles could, too.

Now I'll be the first to say that he sucked. It was an undeniable truth. Sometimes he missed the ball that was sent his way. Sometimes he threw it, along with his stick, behind him, and ran. Sometimes he got a few steps in, and then fell over, only to be trampled on by the opposing team. But I think hearing his dad's cries of delight helped Stiles reconnect with a more confident him. I followed in his dad's footsteps, and I stopped, curved my hands around my mouth, and at the top of my voice, I shouted, "LET'S GO STILINSKI!"

Everyone's eyes turned to me, but I held my head high, locking eyes with him, and he gave a small nod, which I returned. I sat back down, and crossed my ankles, while everyone around me seemed to shuffle away, whereas the Sheriff was smiling like a fool. I returned the smile with one of my own, and was too out of it to notice the creepy, white-haired old man, whispering graphic and intense scenarios in the wind, hoping our very own werewolf would hear. Not that I knew there were more of them, at that moment.

My strategy seemed to work, splendidly, as Stiles scored, once, twice, then three times, and as each time, the crowd, myself included, went wild. By the end, we were all chanting his name, standing, stomping, screaming, in joy, simply because they won their first game, in a very long time. As soon as the clock flipped to 00:00, I noticed number '11' seemed to get unimaginably tense, and started whipping his head around, searching for something that wasn't there. I jumped up, and ran over to Stiles, congratulating him, an hugging his shocked form, only to recoil when I felt how utterly dripping he was with his own sweat. He only smiled, and shoved me playfully, and was swooped into another hug by his loving father.

I turned around, searching for Jackson, and found him standing dead in the middle of the pitch, helmet off, but completely alone. He emitted this aura that screamed, 'Keep. The. Fuck. Away.' and as I approached, I noticed he was shaking, and kept whispering, 'Don't want to', over and over. It was only when he dragged his now clawed hand along his stomach and mid-section that I really caught up with what was going on. And even saying that, what the fuck was going on? I shouted, letting everyone know that something was wrong, but out of the corner of my eye, caught the white-haired man staring at me, and I glared back. Now was not the time to be weird.

For the third, and hopefully final, time of the night, I noticed something strange about the man. His movements were sluggish and brittle, even for a man of his age, which could only have been late 50s, early 60s. The skin just above his collar was sickening yellow and green, showing obvious signs of bruising, and if I looked close enough, I could see that the space surrounding his iris was sullen and dull. His eyes had lost their light, and that told me more that a million doctor's notes could ever. He was dying. Probably leukaemia, if the bruising has anything to do with it.

Just as I thought this, he pulled out a small blue and silver case, popped it open and tore out two pills, swallowing them, effortlessly. He had been diagnosed for a while now, and he was finally nearing his end. Why wasn't he in the hospital? Didn't he have anybody to look after him? He looked well off, if his v-neck sweater and smart, shiny, brown shoes had anything to do with it. Quickly, he span with a grace that any person of his age could only wish to have, and sauntered away, sliding into a car with an unconscious.. Stiles.

Wait… What?

**Done.**

**Alrighty, then, I hope you liked this chapter, please, leave your opinion, have a great day, and I luuuuuuuuuff all of you. :***

*** I am so so so sorry, my lap****top** is broken, I have **********t**o ac**tu**ally copy and pas**t**e le**t****t**ers in, please forgive me and I hope i******t** ge**t**s fixed soon. I love you guys, **p**lease say wi**********t**h me on all of my stories. *


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**ALERT- HORNY, JEALOUS DEREK BELOW. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

Derek POV - During the game -

Peter sauntered in, not half an hour ago, smirking like the utter asshole he was, stinking of the forest and Lily. Of course, as soon as he stepped in and I caught a whiff of her scent, I pushed him, harshly against the door he had just stepped into, and demanded to know where he had spoken to her. He was calm, collected and so very irritating, it almost made me want to tear his throat out… Again.

After interrogating him for answers, trying to use my more or less useless Alpha reign over him, only to have him raise and eyebrow and smirk at me, I gave up, taking to sulking in the middle of the floor, glaring holes into the already destroyed living room wall, willing it to catch aflame, just to distract me from the urge shift and attack Peter, especially because he's withholding information on my mate. My wolf and I internally smile, simply because we know she's here, in Beacon Hills, within arms reach.

He was casually seated on a blackened sofa, while I felt more comfortable on the floor, laying down, staring at the ceiling, in nothing but a pair of dark jeans. Peter was watching me, I couldn't see him, but I could feel his eyes on me, scrutinizing my every move, and waiting for the impending breakdown.

"She's okay, you know."

Those 2 words, 'she's okay', made me sigh in relief, and it felt so good to release the tension in my shoulders. I felt like a literal tonne had been drawn off of my chest, and it was easier to breathe again. Not easy, but eas_ier. _I was happy that Lily was fine, but then, another part of me, the wolf in me, was growling, and howling in anguish.

I didn't want her to be fine without me. I wanted her to need me. No, I needed her to need me. It wasn't something that was explainable, but I could feel it. Every breath, every thought, everything that I did. I couldn't get her out of my system, no matter how much I knew it would be better for me, she just wouldn't leave. And I was glad for that, I didn't want her gone.

"I'm happy for her, I really am."

Peter scoffed as soon as the words left my lips, and if t weren't for the hopeless tone, then the subdued, defeated voice I used, must have given me away. I just sent him a side-ways glare, but my heart really wasn't in it. I wanted to be angry, but I just didn't have it in me. After I had left Lily's doorstep, it was way into the afternoon, and my wolf was resting, for the first time in years. I felt so light, and I was smiling, like an idiot, and honestly, I felt as though nothing could touch me. That was until I got home and realized I still hadn't seen her. Her face was still a mystery to me, although I can imagine what she'd look like.

Just a little taller, her hair still the deep brown that she hated so much, and those big, gorgeous green eyes, that I literally fell into every time I looked at her for too long. A lot of the time, when I left out of the blue, she took it the wrong way and felt bad about herself. **That **couldn't have been further from the truth, honestly. She was driving me crazy. Everything about her made my wolf want to hold her down, and ravage her for days. I couldn't do that to her, I couldn't just force her. She had to want it, want me, and I wanted her to enjoy it. I wanted to mate her completely, make her mine so that everybody knew it, and if anyone tried to move in on what was mine, I would have completely fucking eradicated them. She knew how jealous I got sometimes, and she would always caress and soothe me, just pulling at the corners of the control I had placed over my most carnal and feral desires.

"Oh God, reign in the arousal, please! You stink of it!"

Peter flailed around, holding a hand to his face, and sending me a glare that could freeze coffee. I tried to smile, I really did, but it really just came off as a grimace, so I gave up. Then, he said something that made my heart stop beating.

"She's engaged you know."

Before I knew it, I was out the door, half-shifted, scrambling straight towards her house. She's with somebody? Someone else has the nerve, the audacity to touch what is mine? She is _mine_! How dare some filthy, disgusting, _normal _man even think about touching my Lily! How dare **she **even think of allowing someone to touch her, knowing full well that she's mine! I'm done with being quiet, she's going to know I am here, and I refuse to stop, until she's begging for more.

I will have her on her knees, my cock so far down her throat that she can't think of her own name, rather than this other human's. I will bend her over, and fuck her until she red, raw and leaking all over. When I'm through with her, she will not be able to walk for weeks, without thinking of my face between her legs. I will imprint my cock into her body, ruining her for anyone else. It will be then, and only then, that she will realize who she belongs to.

Even thinking about her touching someone else's body, holding _them, _caressing their bodies after a long night of sex. I refused to call it love-making, because I'm the only one she will ever love. I will not stop, I will not let her be, no more. She's mine, and she's going to fucking know it.

I paw the earth beneath my claws even harder, as I race towards her house, only for my heightened sight to see that the lights are off, and my ears to not detect any movement or heartbeats inside. Quickly, I divert my course, running straight towards the only place, besides being near her, even half-way calmed me down. Just thinking about teaching Lily such an intimate, much needed lesson had my vision tinging red and the blood rushing south. Oh, God, I knew I was in for a long, grueling night of jerking off just to rid myself of this uncomfortable hard-on.

Pushing through the curtain of leaves and vines, I entered one of the most beautiful, but unknown areas in the entire area of Beacon Hills. The trees created a halo, making a circle around the small stream, leading off into nowhere, coming from some back water city near here, and it was just serene. The flowers were bright and colorful contrasting brilliantly with the green grass and giving the place a certain aesthetic that I couldn't compare to anything I had ever seen. It was perfect. I took Lily on our first date here, and it was also the place where I first took Lily's virginity.

And we're back to Lily, once again. I shifted back to my human form, and I couldn't wrap my head around what Peter had told me. I crawled towards the stream, and looked at myself in the reflection, and I wasn't happy with what I saw. I was shaking, and felt the sweat dripping down my back and was matted in my hair, as well as dirt and a whole lot of other shit that I didn't want to know about. I unbuckled my jeans, and my dripping cock sprang free. You see, I didn't bother with underwear simply because I hated having to buy completely new set, over and over again, because I always seemed to rip them while shifting.

I wrapped my hand around my dick, and immediately went to work. My cock was already slick with pre-come and sweat but I just wanted to get this over with, so I spat out a heap load into my other hand and started working the head. I wasn't going to last long, at all, and I didn't have it in me to care. I could almost taste the sweet release, and I was working for it. The head of my cock was an irritated red and the more I rubbed at it, the more it seemed to blush. My balls were so tight, and I massaged them with the hand that was now no longer around the head. My dick was weeping, and as soon as I thought of the feeling of being engulfed by Lily's extremely wet, tight heat, I was grunting out an orgasm.

I was shooting hot, thick streams of come, and it was all over my chest, dripping out onto the grass on either side of me, but I couldn't even think about wiping it off. I was still shaking in post-coital bliss, and I felt free. A few moments after this, my brain caught up with my body, and that's when the tears came. I was naked, my jeans hanging around my ankles, and the tears were streaming down my face. I couldn't hold it in. The pain of losing her, the absolute joy I felt when I knew she was safe and back in town, and now, the utter heartbreak I was going through, when Peter told me she was taken. I couldn't pull her from her happiness, I just couldn't.

It didn't even occur to me that Peter could have been lying.

**Heeeeeeeeey boys and girls,**

**I hope you missed me.**

**I like this chapter, just because it showed how emotional Derek really is. I mean, we all can see the feelings behind those green, green eyes, but he never shows any of it. I love the fics where he just lets it out, and I've always wanted one. So yeah, here it is.**

**Also, Derek jacking off wasn't all that bad to read, now was it? ;)**

**I don't know if I got it right, but please, review and tell me how you feel. I love you guys, and have a great day :D**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Lily POV

As soon as I saw Stiles, slumped in the backseat of that 4x4 SUV, I immediately went into stealth mode. And by stealth mode, I ran, full speed towards my bike, jumped on, and revved her up. I saw the car pull out of the driveway, leading and out of the school, and took a sharp left, driving much quicker than the speed limit allowed, and I followed, in the same fashion.

I followed them, never losing sight of them, but not keeping the same speed, as I didn't want to be caught blatantly following them. I stayed at around 25mph, where as they were going at a strong 40, meaning there was some ground to cover between us, but I wasn't worried. I was a capable driver, and a very experienced one at that.

They pulled up into the driveway of a rather classy looking home, and lugged a now awake, yet dead on his feet Stiles, into the back garden, and into what I assume would be a basement. I parked my bike a little further up the street, and sneakily made my way towards Mr. Crazy's backyard. I jumped the wall and landed particularly swiftly onto the grassy floor. My body was crouched low, as I could hear the faint footsteps of some men, walking back and forth in front of a door, which I was guessing was where Stiles was being kept.

From where I was seated, I couldn't see a window, or any other point of access, so I assumed I would have to go through the doorway. There was no way I was leaving here without Stilinski, and that was a promise I wasn't going to break. I circled the three men, and they must not have been the smartest of the bunch seeing as how they weren't really looking for anything in particular. They were just standing there, looking menacing. What fucking idiots.

Silently, I surveyed the three men, deciding which one I was going to dismantle first. I wasn't really about killing, but what I was about was kicking the living shit out of these three men. The first was slim, but the tallest of the trio, and held the least muscle. He was also the closest to me, so he was my first target. The middle was a short excuse of a man, and he had so much extra fat around his ears and chest, he looked like a thumb, bald head and all. The last looked like a challenge, to sat the least. He was about 5 foot 10 and had the right amount of muscle for a runner or a horse rider, and he was going to be a tricky one.

As quickly as possible, I ran against the closest wall, until I was standing directly next to Tall And Skinny, and found myself going on auto-pilot, once again. He looked down at me, and the shock in his eyes was oh-so evident.

"Oi, what are-"

A swift high kick to the chin sent him stunned him, and then dropping my raised leg against his neck sent him to the floor. Mr Thumb was next and an open-palmed punch to the forehead opened his throat passages, and I followed that up with a left handed punch straight into the trachea. He couldn't breath, so after knocking him to the floor, I kneed him in the crown of his head and an elbow to the temple had him out for the count, as quick as a light.

While I was fighting Thumb, Mr. Perfect started to fight with me. I blocked his every punch and kick as easily as if it were just me and him sparring. All my years of practicing was as easily implemented as it was almost second-nature to me. Mr Perfect kept throwing punch after punch, throwing them down on me, but I blocked them as easily as anything, and returned them with powerful strikes of my own to his painfully open mid-section.

After a swift upper-cut and a jumping knee to the chest, I was standing alone with three unconscious men surrounding me, and a thin sheer of sweat along my forehead to prove it. I pulled at the door, and surprisingly enough, it was open. These fucking idiots. How are they going to rely so much on men that cant even do their job correctly? I pulled out a bobby pin that was keeping a few strands of my hair in place and played with the lock on the door. After a few seconds of intense ninja-focus, I jimmied the door open, and walked inside a kitchen.

There was nobody in said kitchen, but I could hear angry voices from upstairs. The lights were flickering on and off and I could hear mumbles coming from below me; in the basement, where Stiles is. I flicked open one of the doors and what I saw was absolute anarchy. There were two people, hung by their wrists by live electric wires, sweat and tears drenching both of their faces and fear etched into their eyes. One was female, the other was male, and a red-faced, bruised and bleeding Stiles was laying on the floor, in a foetal position, trying to cover his face with his hands.

He was obviously hurt, and the string of swears and curses he was uttering would make a sailor blush. The two teenagers, probably no older than Stiles himself were trying to see who was coming down the stairs, aka me. I stared descending the steps, praying that they didn't creak beneath my feet and when I reached the bottom, I put my finger to my lips, warning them to be quiet. I shook Stiles shoulder, and he snapped his eyes up towards me, fear shining in them, as well as a few stray tears. As soon as he recognised me, however, a large grin, that probably hurt like a motherfucker to do, spread across his lips, and I hugged him, telling him everything was going to be okay.

"What are you doing here?"

It was that one statement that sent a trickle of fear straight down my spine and made it pool in my stomach. I turned my head, slightly, and saw the sick, old man from the lacrosse game. He was surveying me, studying my posture and waiting to see if I would attack him, but I'm not for that. I could take down fully grown men, three actually, but I would never, _ever _put my hands onto an elder person.

"I just need to take him, and get him out. I don't even know what's going on, I just need to take him home."

As I was speaking, the old man started walking down the stairs, and when I was finished, he was right in front of me, with me being on the floor, still clutching at Stiles' arms. I wasn't expecting him to jut his foot out and kick me in the face, but hey, what's life without a few surprises. My entire body fell back, and my head collided with the floor. I heard a groan from besides me and instinctively tried to cover Stiles, as each punch, kick, slap and hit rained down on me. I was in complete shock, and the pain of each didn't register with me, until long after. I stayed conscious throughout the harsh beating, and at some points, I locked eyes with the pretty honey blonde girl, who was tied up, and she looked so frightened for me. I tried to smile, and tell her things were okay, simply because I felt such a strange connection with her, and her friend equally, who was half-awake, but twitching because of the live currents passing through the wires.

I tried to look up, but my face had started to hum in pain, and I could feel a sticky liquid as it trickled out of my mouth and down the side of my face, falling into my eyes, and blurring my vision. The cuts weren't big, or very deep, but they stung like a bitch. I needed to clean them soon, otherwise they would get infected, and then I could go into septic shock. I had bruises forming on both my eyes, and my lips had been bitten, a self-inflicted injury made only to stop myself from crying out and giving this sick bastard the satisfaction.

I was breathing harshly, and could barely keep my head up, but I was focused on one thing, and one thing only. The sound of Stiles' heartbeat beneath me. Suddenly, both Stiles and I were being dragged out of the room; me by my hair and him by his arms, and up the stairs, out the backdoor, into the cold air and thrown in the SUV. Before I left the room, my eyes locked onto the blonde girl, sending her a nod and her returning it. It was a silent promise. I was going to get them out of here.

We drove in silence until we came to another, yet smaller house, and were literally kicked out and were left to lie on the freezing cold, and very hard pavement. This was a good thing, for me anyway, as the cold stopped me from passing out, and I was able to pull Stiles to his feet and he led me towards the door, pulling out a key from his pocket and let me pull him the stairs. The walls were a light grey, and covered in pictures of Sheriff Stilinski, a very beautiful young woman and Stiles, ranging from the baby years, to what looked like his last school photo. Stiles truly was an awkward child, it showed on his face.

I could hear someone talking in one of the rooms, but it was only one voice, so I assumed he was on the phone. I tensed slightly, but Stiles seemed completely at ease; he obviously knew this person.

"- any clues here. Listen, if he… If he shows up at the hospital… Okay, thanks."

It was Sheriff Stilinski, on the phone, in what I think was Stiles' room. Well, if the giant poster of All Time Low had anything to say about it. Sheriff and Stiles were really similar, as they both seemed to talk to themselves. I had pulled Stiles into the doorway, but his father was facing the other way. I was about to speak, but decided against it, seeing as how it was his house, his father and his life.

"Come on Stiles. Where the hell are you?"

The Sheriff's voice was nothing more than a broken whisper, and it sounded completely helpless.

"Right here."

**You all know this scene. It was so sad, I felt so bad for Papa Stilinski, the poor human daddy. Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter, and have a great day, I love you guys. :***


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**If this chapter is in anyway upsetting, blame Ed Sheeran and his damn musical talents!**

Stiles POV

She saved me. She came for me, even though she couldn't do much. I mean, Scott, my apparent werewolf 'best friend' is too busy trying to find someway to save his ex-girlfriend; who might I add, tried to SHOOT him, instead of trying to find his beaten friend. I.E Me. I'm always being left behind. I'm always the one who's not important, or expendable. Nobody notices how much I really do for them. Who was it that told Scott who he was? Who helped him through his first two shift? Through the Blue Moon, when all he wanted was to tear my throat out? And as soon as he met Allison, his life has taken a nose-drive into the world of crazy, but oh, it's okay, because it's _Allison._

I'm getting really tired of hearing her name, in every conversation we ever have, it's always about her. I could have died today, I really could have died, and nobody would have even taken second glance, because it's just me. The human. The irrelevant, useless human. Sometimes I really wish I had taken Peter up on his offer; I could have been a werewolf right now, but no, being the nice, helpful person I am, I refused. I would have been going against Scott, and that would have been the ultimate betrayal. I knew it, and so did he.

Part of me thinks that Scott is happy he's the only werewolf, besides Derek and his posse, because if anyone else was, they'd be just as physically perfect as he is. If I were a werewolf, I'd be fast, and smart and better looking, all the things Scott is now, just because of a fucking bite to the stomach, and I'd be just like him. I try and not let the lingering looks of pity or annoyance get to me, because I know he's forgotten what it's like to be human, and as cruel as it is, I wish one day he'd just wake up with all his special powers gone.

I felt a dip in my bed, and I knew it was Lily, she was far too light to make the dent that my dad normal does. I take my head out of the pillows I had just encased my face into, only to look at her face, and wish I hadn't. Her lips are swollen and I can see the scabs inside her mouth from were she bit down too hard. Her eyes are black and her lids are red and inflamed. She had washed off her make-up, but the bumps and bruises along her jaw and forehead make me want to die of guilt. She sees me brooding, and just pinches my little finger, telling me that she's fine, and needs to look at my injuries.

"Come here, Spud. I need to clean them again."

As she pulls the antiseptic cream along my cheekbone and lip, I winced and she chuckled. Having her so close to me, I can see every cut and I immediately feel like shit, only to have her pull at my finger once more and smile at me.

"I'm fine, Spud, stop worrying."

She was doing it again. She was trying to make me feel better about the whole situation. She hadn't asked any questions, she didn't ask about Gerard, or why she got beaten, and she left me to sulk over everything. I didn't deserve a friend like her. I mean, if I thought about it, I was no better than Scott. Ditching her at the mall, knowing full well that she had no way of getting home besides walking, leaving her out of things, lying to her face and now getting her beaten up, all in the name of our furry little problem. I was the worst friend, ever. I rarely ever cried, but I felt the tightness in my chest and throat, and knew I was close to shedding tears. It was all becoming too much for me to take, and I was buckling under the pressure.

"Oh, baby, stop crying. Come here."

I was gathered into Lily's arms, and my head was on her lap, using it as my pillow, with her sitting against my headboard, stroking my face, and shushing me, for God knows how long, until I stopped hiccuping and fell asleep.

**Switch to Lily POV**

We got in about an hour ago, and Stiles was still upset. I didn't want to pry, or ask questions where they weren't wanted, and I understood the need for secrecy, I mean look at my life! I knew they could dredge up bad, hurtful feelings and that was one of the quickest ways of getting drop-kicked, if I was honest. It was only when Stiles started crying I started to feel like something was incredibly wrong. I held him in my lap as he more or less screamed into my now sweats-clad legs and just cried. I didn't think this had anything to do with what happened a few hours ago, but I was worried for Stiles' sanity.

I sat for a while, before I heard someone walking up the stairs. The footsteps were far too dainty and light to have been Stiles' father, but I had seen how that woman at the game was acting around him, so I thought it was her. I expected to see curly brown hair, but was greeted with strawberry blonde hair and big, blue eyes. The door was still open, because Richard, Stiles' dad, refused to leave it closed, no matter how much Stiles tried to reassure him. I thought it was rather endearing how much Richard loved him.

"Oh, I didn't know Stiles had company. I'll come back later."

I didn't want to wake him, so I simply whispered, "No, stay, you came to talk to Stiles right? He's asleep right now, but I can take a message."

She seemed really confused, and also very dubious as to what I wanted with her. Honestly I had no intention of being rude or inconsiderate, in any way. I probably looked a fucking state, with my hair dry and in a bun, no make-up, battered and bruised from head to toe, and wearing one of Stiles' lacrosse jerseys and a pair of grey sweats. She walked in, rather unsteadily and nervous and sat on the edge of Stiles' bed, looking around as if something was going to crawl out and eat her alive.

"Are you o-okay?"

I looked up at her, and smiled. Well, as much as I could, considering my jaw was aching.

"Yeah, I'm good. We got jumped after the game, nothing serious."

She quirked an eyebrow at me, but said nothing. I knew she didn't quite believe me, but I wasn't going to question her on it. Stiles shifted in his sleep a little, and I cupped his head, rubbing his neck a little, making sure he was comfortable. I knew that the girl was watching me, but I was too busy making sure Stiles was okay. He was still shifting, and I knew he was waking up, so I wasn't even going to try and stop him.

"What was your name? I'm sorry I didn't ask before."

She acknowledged I had spoken, but didn't really reply, because she was waiting for Stiles to wake up. Were they an item, or something? I wasn't sure, but Stiles hadn't mentioned her before.

"Lydia. And you?"

I smiled, she didn't. She wasn't very friendly now, was she? No, it wasn't about being friendly, it was a defense mechanism. She was used to being lied to, and people being fake and switching around her, so she's probably had to adjust to that. I wasn't in any way being fake, or shady around her, but I wasn't going to go out of my way to beg for her friendship either. I'm pretty sure I'm 19 years old, so I was older and more mature than they were.

"Lily."

That was all that being said on that matter, and we were done. Stiles' eyes started to open, and he looked up at me, rubbed his eyes and started smiling a very tired, but real grin. After a few seconds of realizing we weren't alone, he turned and said Lydia sitting there with a very awkward and, well, fake smile pasted onto her face. Stiles and her engaged in some talk, which then proceeded to get heated and she went to leave. He asked her to stay, and she did. As soon as they mentioned Jackson, and that they needed to help save him, I was paying a whole lot more attention that I was before.

Stiles was half-way out of the door, with me still sitting rather confused on his bed, when he froze. Something seemed to come to him, and he looked at me. He really looked _at _me, and shook his head, telling me to not come with him. I realized that they didn't need my help, and I was going to leave it at that, until I was sitting in the dead quiet room, staring at the wall, feeling even more useless than before, and I felt like crying. I had my head in my knees and wrapped my hands around myself, sobbing like a baby, when I heard a creaking in the doorway.

"Go after him. Look after him, please?"

My bloodshot eyes shot upward, and saw a haggard and slightly drunk Richard, who had tears in his eyes, matching my own perfectly. I nodded up at him, and resigned myself to running to get to Stiles. My sneakers were downstairs, but my clothes were in the washing machine. I was going to have to Stiles-Chic it. I threw open his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of what would have probably been knee-high dark blue shorts on Stile but because I was so small, they reached my ankles. Sometimes being short really did help. I was still wearing his spare lacrosse jersey and decided to keep it on. I grabbed my Vans from the floor on my way out of the his room, and found Richard standing in the foyer. I walked up to him and he hugged me, tightly and kissed my hairline.

"Be safe, Lily. They said they were going to the quarry warehouse. It not far, but it's a fair distance. Take the cruiser."

He knew something was wrong, but like me, didn't push. He was satisfied with just being there to help out when he was needed, and I was like that, until I realized how utterly hopeless I felt doing so. My hair was tightened in that sloppy bun and I tied my shoes, then yanked open the door and started running towards the car, starting it up within seconds.

I waved at Richard, and was barreling down the street, before I even knew it. I had no clue where I was going, but something was guiding me. I'd like to think it was my parents, showing me the way to protect my friends. I think this was what I was supposed to do. Don't get me wrong, those sick motherfuckers are still going to pay. It's just that murder just wasn't my style. Another sly smile made its way up my face as I made another instinctive right turn, and found myself being pulled towards my destination.

The Quarry.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Lily POV

I had no intention of just barging in on whatever was happening, I was going to take my time, and be smart about what I was going to do. I pulled the cruiser in near the entrance, making the entire journey on foot, running like a mad-woman, until I heard the biggest crash, and for a second, I was scared someone had had a car accident. I followed the sound and saw exactly what I had thought. Stiles had crashed his shitty Jeep into a fucking wall. Who in the world did that? I sprinted over to the Jeep and snuck in through the hole it had demolished.

Now the fact that a 6 foot lizard, tail included, was sitting atop of Stiles Jeep watching everything insight. I was behind it, so it didn't really register that I was here, until I saw it, and my heartbeat probably doubled in speed. I heard gunshots, and that's when I duck and covered. I rolled on the floor, taking cover behind a thick slab of metal which was braced against a part of the brick wall that wasn't destroyed. I stayed there for a good 5 minutes, before I stopped hearing movement directly around me, but it had moved. It diverted around the corner, and I followed. Nobody knew I was here, besides that creature-beast from earlier, but I don't think he was focusing on me right now.

I was following my ears, and part of me realised that this was _nothing _like I thought it was going to be. I thought it might have been a party, or something, and at the worst, maybe drugs or the police being involved, but **no**. It had to be a creature that looked like it belonged in the black lagoon. I could hear a myriad of growls and I would recognise them from anywhere. There were werewolves in here. Now I wished I had brought my gun, because somebody was going to get shot today. I tracked the growls and what I saw literally floored me.

It was Derek. He was here. I could see him. My heart was now tunnelling out like a freight train. I felt like I was going to die. My heart was now in my stomach, and I felt like I was going to vomit. I didn't understand what was going on, my head was swimming. My eyes probably were crossed, and my knees felt weak. I didn't want to see him, I didn't want any of this, but now that he _is _here, I didn't want him to go. I felt almost frightened to speak to him, just because I knew he was going to hate me. I didn't want him to hate me. _Oh God, _if he hated me, I didn't know what I'd do. I was 16, I was stupid, I wanted him, all of him. I felt so fucking dizzy and my knees were wobbly.

Looking at him now, I didn't know what was going on, but the roaring of both him, his pack and that lizard-man, brought me back from Derek-land and back into the real world. They still didn't realise I was here, which I was surprised about, considering they had exceptional senses of smell. There was a young girl, a pretty little brunette paired with a not so pretty bow and arrow pointed directly at the curly haired Beta and she shot it. You see, I knew she was going to do it before she did, so I had ran, a little more heavy-footed than I should have, and headed directly in front of the Beta's, sending my hand out and grappling the wooden arrow in my right hand, snapping in half before I even had the chance to contemplate it.

The look on the Beta's face was that of surprise, as well as one of complete thanks. I smiled at him, and he returned it, quickly. I knew all eyes were on me, especially those beautiful green eyes of Derek Zachary Hale. I could hear him growling, lightly, and this was aimed at me. It was the growl he used to use when he was upset with something that I did, and I would normally admonish him for it, but I just didn't have it in me. I couldn't even look at him, so I didn't. I was more focused on the gigantic lizard-creature that was looking at me like I was something to eat. It charged at me, and I could see Derek run to and intercept him. I refused to allow that the happen, so I charged straight at him, jumping in the air, and latching myself on the lizards upper body, and pushing it to the ground. I was seated on it's chest, but I misjudged its strength and found myself being thrown across the factory floor.

Yeah, not a good way to go. I was rolling for a little while, but I had tucked my body in, so I was curled, as I was sent along the floor. My base of my spine slammed rather roughly into one of the pole foundations, but I wasn't going to dwell on the pain. I flipped so I was crouched, with the tips of my feet and hands on the floor as well as on of my knees, keeping myself braced up. The lizard-man ran up at me, intent on probably tearing my face off, but I span, so my right foot was jutting out, connecting with it's chest and sending it flying. I was intent on disarming the creature, but I wasn't going to let it off without it kicking its ass, though.

The growls increased as I ran up at it, and I could almost feel the heat of Derek's glare on my skin, but I had work to do. I could see the tail, so I wasn't going to factor it out of the equation, and I made sure to dodge any of the swipes of said tail, and when he clawed at me, I made sure to evade those, too. Those talon-like claws looked like they could ribbon concrete, so I couldn't even imagine what they could do to me, a fleshy piece of meat. I was quick, but not as fast as a werewolf, so eventually I would have to stop.

Out of nowhere, I felt hands slip around my waist and I was being dragged backwards. I couldn't see who it was, but it wasn't Derek. His hold was much more firm and demanding, this guy just wanted me out of the way. I looked around and saw that I was standing next to Stiles and Lydia, and another boy, with dark brown hair and tanned skin. They were all looking at me with the most incredulous stares and all of their mouths were slightly slackened. I shrugged and told them, "You're going to catch flies."

I chuckled more to myself than to anyone else, and was watching what was going on. Derek was fighting the bitchy brunette and the lizard-creature was fighting the curly Beta. It was sending hit after hit, but he was holding his own. I had a strange feeling of pride that made a smile come to my face and my heart skip a few beats. I think he was the one who pulled me out of the way. He was protecting me. I went forward, as if I were going to jump right back into the fight, but Stiles held my shoulders, keeping me in place, and making sure I cant move.

"No. Stay where you are, Ninja-Girl."

I shrugged him off, but didn't move to go back into the fight. I knew Stiles would kick my ass for doing that. Or at least he would try, anyway. I nudged him with my hip and he pinched my shoulder in return. On the outside, I knew I looked a state, what with my earlier run in with Grandpa Psycho, as well as my flushed red cheeks and sweaty brow, but I felt more alive and awake than I have for the last 3 years. I was fighting, I was smiling, I was laughing. Derek was here. It seemed to only just sink in now, because I had time to really take it in.

And he looked good. His hair wasn't flat or in his eyes anymore, it was more just left to do its own thing. It was like he looked gorgeous without even trying, the damn asshole. He looked taller, more muscular around the arms and his shoulders were much broader. Oh God, he looked so much more manly and I found myself wanting to just touch every inch of his skin.

The fight probably went on for about 10 minutes, and it looked like a dance. A dance that we were losing, actually. We watch in suspense as the lizard-man not only took Derek down, but also, on the command of the Mr. Crazy Old Guy, held Katniss Everdeen by her throat and stopped the entire debacle. Wait, the lizard-creature was following Senor Psycho's orders? What's going on here? Who is this lizard guy anyway?

"Dad, what are you doing?"

I whipped my head around and saw a middle-aged, blue eyed man, wearing dark colours and holding a very intimidating and probably loaded semi-automatic gun. It had to be said that I did move out of his line of fire. There was no way I was getting shot today. The traded insults back and forth, and it was getting increasingly heated, and I knew something was going to pop off soon, so inch by inch, I moved Stiles out of the way, just to make sure he was okay, and he kept Lydia behind him.

"Excuse me, not to interrupt this family reunion, but I just want to take these two and leave, thanks."

I started to push Stiles, edging him towards his Jeep and he was walking away, simply because he knew I was serious. That was until I felt something slimy wrap around my shoulder and suddenly I was chest-to-chest with the lizard-man. He wasn't trying to attack me, he was just holding me around my shoulders and I could hear his heart under my ear. It was faster than a humans, and his skin was hard and slippery. I wanted to push away, but something about his shallow breathing and the look in his eyes; the hopelessness and the anger that was so obviously present, but also the fear and the loneliness that was shining in the reptilian depths.

Oh fuck.

**This chapter was originally over 3000 words long, but I thought against it, so I made it into 2 chapters. Character death in the next chapter.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

"Who are you?"

That small question seemed to set him off, and the disgust in his eyes blew his pupils open and I was once again sent flying through the air. I didn't hit the floor, however, I landed in the arms of curly Beta. I smiled at him, brightly, and he chuckled, "Now we're even."

I nodded and was set on my feet, and being held lightly around my waist in a way that made it so that curly Beta was in front of me. Grandpa Psycho wormed his way into Tanned and Gorgeous' head, and out of nowhere he dug his now sharpened claws into the back of Derek's neck, and Derek's mouth, fangs and all, flew open and Grandpa Psycho put his forearm into it, and dug his arm onto his canines and raised his now injured arm above his head.

I knew why he did it. He was dying. He wasn't going to last long, and he needed the bite to survive. But, something was wrong. Even I knew that the cuts shouldn't be bleeding thick, black, lumpy liquid, and yet his was. I looked at Tanned and Gorgeous and he had a sly, smug smile slapped onto his face, and I knew he had done something. Senor Psycho had no clue, until he looked into the horror struck faces of his son and granddaughter, and noticed something was wrong. Something was very wrong indeed. His nose was bleeding the same ebony liquid, and then his eyes started leaking it. I was actually frightened for him, and stepped forward, with the intent on helping him. Even though he attacked me, he was breaking apart in front of my eyes, and I felt my heart lurch, as well as my stomach.

As I did that, however, Derek more or less roared in my direction, and for the first time, I actually looked a him. Our eyes connected and everything was perfect. Only for that moment, though, because he soon looked away, and I felt my heart break in two. I deserved it, I knew that already, but it didn't stop it from hurting as much. I heard a very wet, sloppy, gurgling sound from where Senior Psychopath was now kneeling and I saw he was projectile vomiting that black sludge all over himself and the floor and I had to look away. That was a sight I wasn't going to forget in a while.

Curly Beta was twitching, as if he was still on high alert, even though Crazy Grandpa was now completely still, and I assume he was dead. Lizard-man was still holding Katniss by her neck, once again, and only released her as he went back into fighting mode. That only lasted a few moments until Lydia sent her body hurtling forward, and Stiles fought with Tanned and Gorgeous to stop her from doing so.

"Jackson! Stop it! Here, look, just stop, look."

She pulled out a little necklace, similar to mine, and hers had a small, bronze key at the end of it. I fiddled with my two necklaces and out of my peripherals I saw Derek glare at my hands. They had a very heartfelt moment, and I couldn't help but give a watery smile and I rubbed my eyes. It had been such a long, trying day and all I wanted to do was cuddle Stiles and go to bed.

Oh so it was Jackson? Jackson was the half-lizard creature-man and he was looking at Lydia like she was the only woman in the room. It was a truly beautiful moment, and I almost felt like I had to look away, it seemed that private. They hugged and kissed and he switched back to the completely human, but completely nude, Jackson Whittemore. Now here's where everything went to shit.

Peter, the fucking James Bond of werewolves, popped out of nowhere and shoved his claws into Jackson's back, while Derek flew forward and stabbed him in the same place, in his front. Jackson gurgled a little and crumpled into a sobbing Lydia's arms, and just lay there, whispering sweet nothings into her ears as he collapsed to the floor. And even though I only knew him for a few days, he didn't strike me as the type who had nothing to live for. He had friends, even if he couldn't see it straight away. If he looked around, he would see all these people, who loved him enough to try and save his life.

I knew I had tears in my eyes, because this town had seen far too much death. Derek's family, my parents, and now Jackson? All because of the supernatural. I swear, anyone who had more sense than I did would have turned and ran for the nearest exit, but not me. I stuck around, watching everything, waiting for the perfect time to strike, and I couldn't have timed it better. I didn't do a lot, but what I did do, you can guarantee it was my hardest.

Lydia let go of his hands, and stood up, tears escaping her eyes as she made her way over to Stiles, and just as I started to lose hope in Jackson, his hands began twitching, and I couldn't help it, I ran straight up to him, putting my head against his chest, listening for a pulse, letting me know he was at least trying to live. I found the dull thrumming of his heart, and let out a triumphant sigh, and held both of his hands, noticing how warm they were, especially considering the quarry was so cold I knew my teeth would be chattering if adrenaline wasn't shooting through my system.

I was tracing patterns on the top of his hand with my thumb and he squeezed back, alerting me to his now piercingly blue eyes, that looked frighteningly similar to the colour of the tips of my hair, staring up at me, shock and surprise etched into them. He tried to get to his feet, but I pushed against his bare, and very tight abdomen and set him back down, with a look of faux outrage. I raised my eyebrows at him, and pushed his left shoulder, to which he responded with grabbing my wrist and pinning it over his heart. I could feel it pumping, with much more vigour and I smiled at him, nodding slightly. He wanted to stand up, on his own, because he could now. He was strong enough to do that, and he knew it. He wanted to show me that he could do it, and I wanted make him smile. He had a beautiful smile, as well as a beautiful soul, he just didn't know how to show it.

I slid back onto my ass, and let him, rather unsteadily, get to his feet. I tried not to pay attention to the man-junk that was settled in between his legs, but come on, it's hard when it's right in your face… Literally. I was sitting there, watching him and Lydia hug and do their couple thing, as well as Tanned and Gorgeous and Katniss make awkward eye contact with each other, only to have her and her dad slide into the same SUV that took Stiles from the lacrosse game. Thinking of the time in the basement only brought those two teens to the for-front of my mind, and I had to remind myself that it had only been about 3 hours since I had seen them.

I prepared myself, standing back up and brushing any dirt off of Stiles' clothes and walked over to the drivers side of the car. I knocked on the window, and spoke to the father.

"I need those two kids in the basement let out, immediately."

I kept my expression neutral, but they could obviously see my irritation as well as my impatience. He nodded and inclined his head to the passenger seat of his car. At this movement, Derek howled in protest, and started stalking over towards to where I was. If only to get away from him, just for a few seconds, just to let me get my shit together, then I would do anything, and I ran over and opened the car door, asking the driver to start the car.

His daughter, Katniss, was in the backseat, and she looked completely out-of-sorts because of the whole ordeal. I decided against speaking, simply because they were doing me a favour, and I didn't wish to rock the boat. I was fully aware of the awkwardness that had settled into the air, and I was also painfully aware of the looks her father was sending me from the driver's side. I was on edge, simply because I knew that they were related to the Psychopath from before, and I didn't know whether they were aware of what he was up to, but I wasn't going to risk it.

"So, who are you?"

My vision snapped up to his face, and he looked nothing but calm and collected, and I felt that even if I did lie, he would find out eventually who I was and why I was here. Him and his daughter were obviously hunters, and by the looks of it, very proficient ones at that, and I suppose it would have been a good idea to make allies of my own 'kind'.

"Lilac Williams. I moved back here a few days ago."

Williams was a common last name, so I didn't have to worry about him putting two and two together, especially considering my parents were from other parts of the world, originally, and neither of them had had any contact with other hunters outside of their own clans after my mother gave birth to me. At least, that's what I had been led to believe.

"Ah, okay. I'm Chris and that's my daughter, Allison. How do you know about werewolves?"

I scoffed, quietly, and smiled up at him, rather cheekily, and said, "I dated one. It didn't end well."

I laughed at that, only because it _was _the truth, and it felt good not to have to lie about everything in my life. These two were the first people who have ever known about me and werewolves being linked, in any way, and part of me wished it would stay that way, but I knew that as soon as Derek and I spoke, which is something that we would be forced to do, everything would come spilling out, and my well-constructed life of lies would come crashing down around me, and honestly, I wasn't quite ready for that to happen.

That is one of the reasons why I'm here now, and not with Derek, helping him with his pack. I needed time to myself, and this was the only way I was getting it.

**DONE.**

**I tricked you guys. I was going to make Jackson die, but I loved him a little too much to do that, so I just went with Season 2's ending. Now, from here on in, it's all me and my depictions, so any opinions you have will be accepted, and I hope you like it.**

**Have a great day, and I love you guys.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Lily POV

We pulled up at the same demon-house of torture and badness, and I was led in through the front door this time, which was a nice change. The walls of the foyer, living room and from what I could see of the upstairs were cream and it held a pretty calm, family aura. The lights were still flickering, and I gave Chris a very exasperated and annoyed stare, and we both quickly walked towards the basement, and I threw open the door. The two prisoners below shot up to look at me, and even in the sliver of light, I could blatantly see the fear and pain in both their eyes.

The man was very well-built, dark skinned and muscular. He looked around my age, but he could have been older. His skin looked smooth, even though he had suffered cuts all over his face and neck. His shirt had been torn, so I could see his abs, and let me tell _you_, they were on _point_. I had to shake my head to get rid of those thoughts. What? I could look, couldn't I? His breathing was heavy and laboured, and his hands were shaking minutely under the strain of the electric wiring coursing through his veins.

The young woman standing next to him had matted honey blonde hair and big blue eyes. She, also, had been restrained by her wrists with electricity probably coursing through her system. They both were covered in sweat and tears, and I knew they probably looked like super-models when they wanted to. I more or less sprinted down the 14-step staircase and stopped right in front of the woman. I stated resolutely, "I told you I was coming back."

I smiled brightly and tried to undo the binds, only to receive a sharp electric shock in return, and I put my finger in my mouth, to soothe the wound. My fingers were a little red, but nothing incredibly painful. Chris chuckled behind me and flicked a switch, subsequently turning off the lights as well as the electric wires, and I went back to work. I pulled and tore at the bindings and finally, both teens were free.

Suddenly, there was a whole load of growling and roaring, generally in Chris' direction, and I put two and two together. They were werewolves. I was going to guess that they were Betas to Derek, so they were apart of his pack. They were standing slightly in front of me, and the dark-skinned man had his arms splayed out, as if he were protecting me. I jumped a little, and my heartbeat spluttered at the gesture. I was shocked, especially considering I should have assumed that they were of the supernatural. It was kidnapping, and to top it off, torture, and that just didn't seem like Hunter code.

Out of instinct, more so then anything else, I took a firm grip of both teens shoulders and dug my nails in, just to indicate my displeasure at what they were doing, and to let them know that they needed to stop. Their jaws were locked and menacing-looking, with they canines long and jutting out, and both their eyes had switched from being normal, to being their supernaturally vivid orange-gold. They whined and fell back, but didn't exactly relax much.

"I'm taking them and we're leaving, okay? You two, come with me, let's go."

My tone had taken on a hard edge and I didn't know where it came from. I would focus on that later, but for right now, I need to get myself and the two Betas out. I pulled at their shoulders and they started inching towards the stairway. I tried to make them go first, but they insisted I go first, huffing slightly in almost outrage when I suggested it.

By the time we were up and out of the house, they had already shifted and out of nowhere, I was on the man's back and they were running. They were running so fast I couldn't help but tuck my face in the broad crook of his shoulder and just let them do their thing. I was thinking about the day I had just underwent, and I couldn't believe how _fucking _weird everything was. Stiles won his game, and then we got beaten up, by Senior Psychopath. It's not as if I go around, joining fight clubs, but I knew I could handle myself in a fair fight, but to actually get my ass handed to me by a man old enough to be my grandfather, well my pride took a little bit of a beating, literally.

I met Jackson, AKA Lizard-man, and he, also, kicked my ass seven ways from Sunday, and then he died, but came back to life as a werewolf. Speaking of werewolves, my ex-boyfriend is now Alpha and has at least 5 Betas underneath his belt. He's become powerful, more powerful than I could have ever imagined. He's grown into the man that I knew he could have always been, and now I knew he didn't need me. Why would he need me? I'm a shadow, a shell of the girl that I used to be. I hated thinking like this. Always questioning whether I was enough for him - although I knew I wasn't. He probably was with someone equally as powerful and beautiful as he was, and I would have to be happy for him, even if it was killing me inside.

After helping Jackson out a little, I saved these two knuckleheads and now, I can only imagine that we are on our way, going to meet my doom. Also known as Derek Hale. As I think this, I shake my head and bite down on my bottom lip. The man, I still didn't know his name, heard my heart beating wildly, and whined a little and nuzzled his smooth cheek against the top of my head. Funnily enough, it made me feel much better than I did before. I didn't even know his name. I didn't know what it was, but I always felt oddly connected with Derek's pack.

What the _fuck _is going on with me right now?

**Well, maybe, if, you know, I'm being nice, I'll give you some Derek/Lily action in the next chapter.**

**No. I am giving you some Lerek in the following chapter and you'll love it.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Derek POV

I paced up and down my foyer, only to stop and glare daggers into the broken-down door frame and repeat. I heard both Jackson and Isaac sigh quietly, trying to make it seem like they weren't there. I growled, lowly, and I could felt more than heard them flinch. It was like all my senses were on hyper-alert. I could smell the salt in the air from when it had rained a few days ago. I could hear the beat of the paws of the animals that lived in the forestry that surrounded my broken down home. I could see every dust mote floating carelessly in the breeze, even though the lighting in my house was abysmal. I could taste the tension in the air, and it turned my stomach to know that most of it was emitting from my body.

I could hear the heartbeats of three approaching people; Erica, Boyd and… Lily. I could smell her shampoo. She's still using that strawberry and coconut mix I had always adored. I felt like rolling around in it for days and I knew I would never get over the smell. I still hadn't forgotten about that smell, even 3 years later. I knew Isaac could smell my rising arousal so I cleared my throat, and focused my glare on the door, and sat on the third from bottom step of the staircase in the middle of the foyer. This was the spot I had always came to whenever I needed to relax or calm myself down, even as a child.

Isaac and Jackson came in from the living room and were standing either side of me. Jackson was taking to being a werewolf much better than Scott ever had, and I was glad I had turned him. Peter was off somewhere, probably being an ass as per usual. I was going to sort him out when the time came. We were both Alphas in our own rite, and that was going to be a problem. A _big _problem. I locked my hands together, and lay them almost lazily on my knees and I mentally prepared myself. I didn't know if I was ready to forgive her, but I needed her around. Now that she was back, I didn't want her to go away. The fucking wolf in me was almost bursting from the carefully placed restraints I had forced on it over the years, and I could feel the control slipping away.

Erica and Boyd walked up the stairs leading up to the house, and didn't bother knocking. They walked in, and I could smell the shame rolling off them both in waves. They felt guilty for leaving my pack, and I knew they wanted to come back. It was in their instincts to keen for me, I was still their sire, even if they didn't think I was their Alpha. I didn't know whether I was going to allow them back into my pack. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that to happen, though. I couldn't have any weak links, and that's exactly what they were to me right now. Weak links. I didn't want to release them, I wanted to keep them here - they were family. The only family I had right now, and I wanted to keep them safe.

I spotted Lily on Boyd's back, with her head tucked into his shoulders and I couldn't stop the roar that escaped me. She jolted, and it looked like I had woken her up. Blearily, she looked around, and when her eyes fell on me, her heartbeat doubled. It sounded like she was going to have a heart attack or something, and my wolf and I really needed her to calm down. I could smell the tears forming and it was strange. I always thought she left because she didn't want me anymore. She never did do well with goodbyes.

I didn't want to scare her off, but I suddenly was over come with a sudden rage and I knew my eyes had shifted colour. All 4 wolves in the room fell to their knees and bared their necks in submission and whimpering. They didn't like when I got like this, and it only happened when I was really pissed off, and that wasn't that often. Yeah, I got irritated and a little bit annoyed, but I never got Alpha-pissed off. Honestly, I've never ever fully shifted. I hadn't ever needed to.. Until now, of course.

"You guys need to leave. Now."

Jackson, Erica, Boyd and Isaac took a beat, looked between both Lily and I and then amscrayed. They left through the front door, pausing only to pat Lily on the shoulder, as a sign of respect. Erica even went so far as to smile at her and they left. Erica and Boyd were probably going home to get some rest. They needed it, and I felt something akin to guilt tug at my stomach. I should have looked out for them, they were apart of my pack, my family, and I left them. I didn't deserve these kids, but from now on, I was going to try to my best with them. This whole thing with Gerard only showcased how much was wrong within the hierarchy of my pack, and I needed to fix it.

I didn't know how to start off this conversation, I didn't even know if I wanted to have it, but I knew it was necessary. We needed to talk, no matter how much I didn't want to hear what she had to say. I didn't want her to tell me she was over me. I didn't want to hear about her new life, her new boyfriend, her new family. I needed her, I wanted her, I _craved _her.

She rubbed at her arm, an old nervous habit that I thought she had gotten out of. Even though I had brilliant eye-sight, I didn't notice the cuts on her face, nor did I see the bruises along her neck or jaw line, until she tried to be brave and smile at me. Suddenly, I was right in front of her, pinning her to the wall behind her, and holding her chin in a very tight grip. I was studying her face, and I couldn't even get my words out. My eyes were flashing from red to green and back again, and I knew my claws were ready to sheathe. My breathing was laboured and I was shaking out of pure fury.

How could someone think about doing that? Who did it? I will rip them apart with my bare hands. I will find them, and tear out their hearts. I will slaughter every person they had ever met. I will set them on fire and dance around the fucking flames. I will-

"Stop it."

That was all it took. She was holding my neck with her tiny, bloodied hands and rubbing it, soothingly. We both collapsed to the floor, and I gathered her into my lap. I didn't care that we weren't together anymore, at least not right now. She was hurt. She looked like she had been beaten. Someone was going to die, painfully.

She nuzzled her face into my neck, and I wrapped my arms around her even smaller, taut waist, and just held her. _Had she really been this small a few years ago?_ I could smell the salty tears and I felt as they wet the shirt I was wearing, but I didn't give it a second thought. She was crying. I didn't like when she cried. It made me feel like an asshole, especially when it's my fault. I rubbed up and down her back, and she was hiccupping, and I could hear her heartbeat steadying. She needed to sleep. I wrapped her legs around my waist, and even though I was 100% ready to fuck her into oblivion, I had to physically wrestle that thought from my mind.

I didn't need any awkward boners to spoil the mood right now. I carried her up the stairs, and lay her down on the mattress I had bought a few weeks ago and lay her down on it, being careful to not nudge her too much and wake her up completely. She was dangling between consciousness and being dead to the world. I went to stand, and leave her alone, but found myself unable as she was grasping my shirt in an actual death-lock.

I smiled a little, and tried to make her let go. I couldn't be around her for too long, otherwise I'd do something I would regret later on. Every time I tried to leave, she would cry out a little in her sleep, and my heart lurched in my chest. I felt like such a dick, but I needed to go for a run. In the end, I had to tear my shirt off, and she snuggled up to it, sleeping with a light smile on her face. I couldn't help but reciprocate, and I turned and walked away. My wolf cried out, but I needed to release some tension. Quietly as possible, I ran down the stairs two at a time, and was out the door before I could second-guess myself.

I was going to run, and I was going to run hard.

**Hope you like the change in POV.**

**Derek is much easier to write, at least easier than I thought he would be.**

**Okay, question time, who's better looking; Tyler H, Tyler P or Dylan?**

**I know, hard right?**

**Anyway, have a great day, and I love you guys.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**This chapter has a lot of Isaac and Stiles fluff and a bit of heavy petting. I'm a Sterek shipper all the way, don't forget that, but I like this couple in my story. Hope you like.**

Stiles POV

Waking up sore was a given after the night I just went through, but being aware of it didn't make it hurt any less. I stretched and winced and groaned at all the right times, especially at the twinges in my lower back and chest area. I was probably bruised all over, and I couldn't help but sigh at that. I knew I wasn't all that to look at in the first place, I didn't need black and blue skin to show me that. I felt something warm behind me, something soft. Something that was breathing down my neck. I turned and expected to see Scott; sometimes he would sleep over, but we haven't shared a bed since we were in middle school.

I turned around, fully ready to berate Scott and tell him to fuck off home, but couldn't hold back the gasp of shock at seeing a sleeping Isaac. When did this happen? I tried to think about what happened last night, but my memory was so fuzzy and outlandish that I couldn't determine whether it was a dream or not. I tried to shrug out of bed, but found myself unable as Isaac's arm draped itself over my mid-section and held me in a tight, strong grip that had me half-way crying out, because it felt like he was crushing my ribs.

I wiggled and writhed, trying my hardest to get out of bed, but he held me there, even going so far as growling under his breath when I carried on trying. I refused to stay here, simply because it was strange doing this. Isaac and I weren't exactly close like that. I mean, he was pack; I loved having him around, don't get me wrong, but we never got to talk like the friends we could be. He was a werewolf, I was human; there was obviously that friction there, but I thought that maybe if we became friends, that would dissipate. I poked, prodded and pinched his arms but he didn't even flinch. I was really getting irritated now, because I really needed to pee, and he was putting so much pressure on my bladder, and that was a no go.

I grumbled out, "Isaac, lemme go. I need the bathroom, let go."

H didn't respond. The only way I was going to get him off was through force and so I dug my nails into his forearm, breaking the skin, tearing a roar from him and in return, he bit me straight in the crook of my neck. Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to get my body to seize up, and me to squeal a little.

"Ow, stop Isaac!"

I tapped him repeatedly on his forearm, and he released my neck, only to have him lick at the would-be wounds. See, I couldn't help but moan because it felt so good. He was lapping at my neck, and it was like someone has set my stomach alight and all I could feel was the warmth coursing through my entire body. I was asking him to stop, but anyone who heard me would be able to know I wasn't being truthful. I wanted more, I just didn't know exactly what 'more' was. Then it all stopped. I could feel Isaac's breathing change as he woke up. His arms released me, and he pushed himself away. I couldn't help but feel a little bit upset at that. Why did he push me away? What did I do wrong?

_Don't be stupid Stiles, what didn't you do wrong? Who would want you?_

There goes that irritatingly vindictive voice in the back of my mind, reminding me that I was normal. I didn't have multi-coloured eyes, or super strength, I wasn't even all that smart. I was below average. Of course nobody would want me. Why would they? I'm nothing.

I think Isaac could smell the self-hatred rolling off of me as he whined, low in his throat, and gathered me in his arms, while nuzzling his face in my shoulder. Was he trying to console me? It wasn't exactly working. If anything, it was making the tight feeling in my abdomen get even more intense, and I wanted to cry. Something about Isaac, and being this close with him was bringing out the old Stiles. The one who cried because he scraped his knee. The one who passionately scolded anyone who spoke ill of anything Marvel. Now I was just an awkward, below average teen, with nothing but his natural wits to get him out of the trouble his fucking mouth gets him into.

I shook my head, and tried to push his off, only to have him growl and roll so he was now straddling me, sitting comfortably on my shirt-clad stomach, smiling ever so cheekily down at me. It was then that I realised he was half naked. His bare torso was directly above me and I could do nothing but gawk at it. How did someone get to look like that at 17 years old? Here I am with my lankly limbs and hollowed stomach, and there were people like Scott and Derek who had abs for days and a stamina to match. Even non-werewolves, like Danny, were more developed than I was, and it wasn't fair. I went to the gym, I played lacrosse, I ate healthily. What was I doing wrong? Isaac sensed my discomfort and nudged my nose with his and nibbled on my jaw-line, letting out rumbles of approval from his chest.

"Stop it, Isaac. What are you doing, why are you here? W-What happened?"

Part of me was frightened to hear what I did. Who wakes up next to a walking inferno, with no knowledge of the prior night and weren't worried they did some stupid shit the night before? Isaac didn't seem to be listening to what I was saying, as he kept nipping at my jaw, nuzzling my neck and sucking on my clavicle. He really liked my neck, huh? He most likely thought I was someone else. Probably Erica. God knows they're close as hell; I wouldn't be surprised if they fucked on the low. Pack-dynamics, I suppose.

I was really getting upset now, I didn't want to be used. I wanted someone to want me. I didn't care about gender, I really didn't. Love was love, in my eyes, and if it was with a boy or a girl, I wouldn't care. I wanted someone to hold, to love, to gaze at, to be proud of and in turn be proud of me. Was that so much to ask? Well, apparently it is, because I've been living in the shadow of my so-called best friend, who as soon as Allison gets involved, becomes unattainable. I hated it, and a part of me, no matter how small, hated them being together. I wanted my friend back. I wanted Scott back.

Out of nowhere, Isaac stilled in his movements, and was suddenly looking me right in my eyes. Hazel met gold, and I noticed that his face was contorted in complete and utter rage. He looked so angry, and for the first time around Isaac, I felt frightened or my life. I thought he was going to tear my throat out.

"Do not mention him around me."

His voice was gruff and the sound went straight to my groin. I felt my cock twitch in my sweats. Isaac took a deep breath, and groaned to himself. His eyes flickered closed, his head bent backwards and his Adam's Apple bobbed in his throat. I didn't know why, but I felt the urge to kiss it, and I did so. After my lips first made contact with his throat, I couldn't stop. I was more or less molesting his neck with my tongue, but he didn't seem to mind.

He was pushing at my shoulders, trying to get me to lay down, and I knew if he used his werewolf strength, he would be able to do it easily. His voice was matter-of-fact and steady, and I wondered if he had done this all before, "Stiles, you're playing with fire, you know if you're not careful, you're going to get burnt."

Although his words were sharp, and meant to frighten me, his voice quivered as he reached the end of the sentence. I was affecting him, just as much as he was affecting me. I was following these sudden, more primal urges that I haven't felt for the longest time. My voice was shaky with apprehension and I whispered, "What do you want to do, Isaac?"

Our eyes connected, and I felt him grind against my stomach, out of pure need. I could see it in his eyes, he wanted something. He wanted me to do something. I didn't know what that was, so I needed him to tell me. _Come on, Isaac. Tell me._ I don't know what to do. If my hands weren't holding onto the sheets below me for dear life, I knew they would be shaking like crazy. My heart was in my throat, and my stomach had dropped. I could feel a burning inside of me, and I wanted to touch him.

Slowly sitting up, I braced myself against my headboard, and nuzzled Isaac's neck, kissing down his chest. I could hear him moan in the right places and he was letting me know what he liked. He seemed to love when I nipped along him collarbone, but he didn't particularly like it when I went anywhere near the tops of his arms. His hands were running over my short hair, that I had decided to start to grow out a little. I hummed, a little sheepishly, "What are we doing, Isaac? I don't understand what's going on."

He just smiled down at me and silenced me with a kiss. He nipped at my bottom lip, and massaged my tongue with his, stopping all trains of thought. His tongue was soft and hot against mine, and he tasted like home. He tasted like the cookies my mother used to back before she died, and as cheesy as it sounded, I loved the taste. He was sweet and moist, and I mapped out his mouth with my own tongue. He let out a sigh, and I pulled back to look into his eyes, only to see his smiling, brightly. My heart skipped a little at the sight, and I felt the blood rush to my face, I was surprised I hadn't passed out from lack of circulation.

"You're so cute, Stiles."

He nuzzled his nose against mine, and snuggled into my neck. He inhaled and sighed again, happily this time. I grinned, more for me than for anything else. I actually had to pinch myself, because this felt way too surreal for it to be reality. The look he gave me when I did that was one of confusion. Coyly, I looked up at him through my eyelashes, and I had to laugh because I haven't felt more feminine in my life, and I whispered, "I.. I've never done this before, okay, Isaac? I just need a little bit of-"

I was cut off by him stepping off of me, and reaching over his side of the bed, probably to find his discarded t-shirt. I couldn't help but whine, low in my throat, and I noticed how brisk and tense Isaac was now. What did I say? I don't understand! I always ruin things, with my fucking big mouth. God!

I rubbed the palms of my hands into my eyes to stop them from stinging with the onslaught of fresh tears, and I choked back a cry. I couldn't cry in front of him, especially if he didn't want to be here. I wasn't going to guilt anyone into doing anything, no matter how used I might feel because of it. In spite of this, nothing I could have done would have prepared me for the dread and hopelessness I felt as Isaac jumped from my window, landing softly on the grass below, not saying a word to me as he did so.

I turned to call after him, and felt my blood freeze because just moments after he left, I heard a heartbreaking howl of pure agony from the forest.

**Initially I was going to make them be full of fluff and goodness, because who doesn't like a loving Isaac and oblivious Stiles? I sure as hell do! Either way, these two are going to get together… **_**Eventually**_**.**

**ALSO, I****'****m eternally sorry, my beauties, I****'****ve been in Switzerland for the last week and a few days, having the time of my life, skiing up and down the mountains and slopes. Wow, guys, you don****'****t understand how beautiful it was over there, but I missed you guys. Now, please, if you****'****re still with me, read, review and favourite, if you****'****d like.**

**I love you guys, and have brilliant days!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Lily POV

Waking up on a hard, springy mattress in the middle of the apparently abandoned casa de Hale wasn't on my list of things I wanted to do. But it appears that God had a different plan for me, and instead of sticking around and having to converse with a most likely pissed off Derek, I left. Of course I noticed how I was clutching onto his shredded t-shirt, and I knew he would probably be coming back soon, but after a few moments of deliberation, I realised that I really didn't want to do this right now. Maybe later, when I could focus solely on him, but I couldn't. Not when I had to find my parents killer.

The thirst for their blood on amplified after the fight last night, and I could feel the adrenaline still pumping viciously through my blood, tainting every thought, staining every breath I took. I wouldn't be surprised if I saw Derek and just punched him in the face, I was that angry. I've thought about blaming him for my parents deaths, more than once actually, but who the hell _could _do that? I chose to spend my parents final day with my boyfriend. I chose to go out with him. I chose to sleep with him. It was all on me. I could go so far as to say it was my fault they were dead, but sometimes when I thought about that for too long, I would find myself, also, contemplating suicide, and I couldn't do that. I couldn't take my own life, especially when theirs had been stolen away so violently. I chose to live on, even if I was miserable half the time.

After waking in these strange surroundings and checking my phone, I realised that it was way past 3 in the morning. I, also, found that I had 5 missed calls; all from Stiles, the absolute sweetheart. I texted him a quick, but to the point message, assuring him that I was okay, and if he wanted, we could go for something to eat later on, when everyone else in the world was awake. I looked down at myself, as I leisurely walked through the forest, and found Stiles' clothes were not only filthy, but torn in all the strangest places. My stomach, my shoulders, my forearms. They had all been swiped at by something; most likely by Jackson and his lizard-claws.

I hoped Jackson was allowed to live, he was such a sweet boy once you got past all those layers. He didn't deserve what happened to him, even if he did act like a douche half of the time. I found myself wanting to find out if he was okay but I had no way of contacting him; I didn't have his number, and I didn't know where he lived. As a matter of fact, I didn't know where anyone but Katniss, AKA Allison and her psycho troupe, and Stiles lived. I really was unsociable, wasn't I? Shrugging, I tugged my hoodie a little tighter to my body, and zipped it up, to the top. It was cold, and all I wanted was a little bit of sleep.

Arriving at my house a lot slower than I would have liked, and dragging my keys out of my pockets, I unlocked my door, and instead of making it up the stairs, I passed out on the three-seated settee, curling in a ball and having my hoodie acting like a pseudo blanket. I fell asleep before I even realise I had memorised the way from Derek's to mine all those years ago, and hadn't forgotten.

**-A few hours later-**

An irritatingly concentrated vibrating was felt under my side and it pulled me out of my sleep. Rubbing at my eyes, I searched for my phone. I answered the call before I even looked at the caller ID.

Stiles' rather loud and worried voice sounded off in my ear, and I couldn't help but flinch as he shrieked, "Hey, Lily, oh my god, I'm so happy to hear from you. Are you okay?"

I sat up, and in a zombie-like state, walked over to the automatic coffee maker. Oh God, I loved these machines so much. I croaked out, "Mph-yeah. Just got up."

Sitting on the side, I started kicking my legs, to distract myself from the lack of coffee in my system. Stiles hummed, and almost tiredly stated, "Oh, I'm sorry.. Lily, it's like 2 in the afternoon, have you been sleeping all this time?"

A ding went off and I let out a shout of triumph, grabbing one of the mugs that were hanging on the hooked cup-holder, and poured myself a cup of steaming life-juice, complete with 2 spoons of sugar and a drop of milk. After blowing over the cup for a few moments, I took a gulp, which led to two, and that ended up in me finished off the still-hot beverage in record time.

With a new found vigour, I drilled out, "Yup. Thanks for waking me up. What's wrong anyway? You sound sad."

And he did. He was sniffing to himself, but he didn't sound like he had a cold, so I assumed he had been crying, and like any good friend should, I wanted to make him feel better.

He sighed, and I heard the melancholy in his tone, "Oh, it's nothing, I just… Ah, it doesn't matter. I'm coming over now anyway, can I tell you then?"

I made a noise of disapproval, but tell him it's okay, and then begin to get ready. Just because Stiles is like, my best friend right now, doesn't mean I'm going to act like a total slob in front of him. We finish the call with promises of chocolate ice-cream on his side, and endless cuddles from me, and I made my way into the shower. Because it was a Saturday afternoon, Stiles didn't have school, and I didn't have any plans, so we were free to procrastinate.

I had a quick shower and tried to literally scrub last night from my mind and body, washing my hair and brushed my teeth with the strength of 6 fully grown ox. The bags under my eyes, and the sullenness of my skin weren't going to go unnoticed, but I tried to hide them anyway. I tugged through my hair with a brush, aiming to simply get out all the knots and blow-drying it, so it didn't dry out and get all fuzzy. I tied it up with an elastic then got dressed in a simple pair of grey, ¾ length sweats and a tank to match, slipping on some furry socks, and sat back down on the settee, switching the TV onto some bullshit station, waiting for Stiles to come.

Not 10 minutes later, I heard an obnoxiously loud ding-dong and ran to answer the door.

"Well that was quick, Sti-"

I looked up, and couldn't help but exhale, heavily. Stiles looked like shit. No sugar coating necessary, because he knew it too. His eyes were bloodshot and the bags underneath them looked like bruises. His skin was dull and he looked like he was dying. What was wrong with him?

"Come in, right now. Sit down and tell me everything."

My tone left no room for discussion, and funnily enough, he followed my orders, without a single sound. Something really was wrong with him, and I was determined to find out what it was.

**Okay, this was supposed to be longer, but I just couldn't deal with having their entire conversation about Isaac in one chapter. Can anyone say 'long'?**

**Its so weird to think it's been 22 chapters, but only about 4 days in the Teen Wolf universe? Zomg.**

**Anyway, have a great day, I love you guys, goodbye :***


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Lily POV

"So.. You both woke up, talked a little, and then made out? But then he left?"

Stiles was sitting with his knees to his chest and his arms wrapped around himself with a cushion separating his chest from his thighs. He had been so very animated during his retelling of his story, and now he was just quiet, with tears running down his cheeks, staining the pillow underneath his chin.

He huffed, angrily, and replied, outraged, "Yeah. I don't get why he did it. He's such an asshole!"

I shuffled closer to him, so now there wasn't even air between us, and my arm around his neck, nudging out heads together. I knocked out heads together lightly, and placated him, "It'll be okay, Spud. Tell me again what was said between you, and don't leave a single thing out."

He reiterated his conversation with Isaac, a little red-faced and embarrassed at some parts, especially the more sexual aspects of it, and from what I could understand, Stiles wasn't given enough time to tell him everything he wanted to. He said he wanted to ask for Isaac to take it slow with him, because he hadn't done anything like this before. Isaac took this as him rejecting his advances, and he left, before Stiles could inform him of otherwise.

"Okay, so Isaac was an idiot, and you feel sad about it?"

Stiles nodded, and dug his face further into the cushion, making a very childish sound and squeezing the pillow till his knuckles were white.

I coughed and lightly chipped in, "You like him, then?"

Stiles' head snapped up to look at me, and his expression held pure outrage.

He was affronted and far too livid for it to be real as he nearly screamed, "No! He's an asshole, I don't like assholes!"

I chuckled and couldn't help myself as I said, "But apparently you like dick though, right?"

Stiles didn't appreciate my humour, and gave me a very scathing glare, but there was humour underneath it. He wasn't so angry that he couldn't appreciate a good joke. That was a good thing. He put the cushion away, and picked up the Neapolitan ice-cream tub that we had been more or less living out of for the last hour and a half, and took a great spoonful, sharing half with me. I swear, ice-cream was the food of the Gods.

He shoved my shoulder, and after taken a large spoonful of ice-cream, he said, "You're a dick! You're supposed to be helping me!"

I huffed, "I am helping you, stupid. To me, it's obvious. You like Isaac. Isaac likes you. Isaac was mistaken, and you're being stubborn. Talk. To. Him."

And I stood up as the ding of the microwave informed me that the popcorn was done and delicious. I pulled out a large metal bowl, popped open the packet containing the toffee popcorn of glory and emptied it into it. Stiles had picked out a movie, I believe it was called 300, and put it into the DVD player. He had been gushing about how awesome this movie was and how much he loved watching it, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt, but I didn't see anything spectacular about it.

I laughed, and chuckled out, "This film is _so _fucking bad, I swear to God."

Stiles just punched me in the shoulder, and made a sound of pure indignation, as if my saying this was blasphemous or something. Oh please, this film was terrible. He corrected me by professing, "It is glorious, and you shall enjoy. Shut up."

And that's how the rest of my day went. Watching movie after movie, snuggling with Mr Stilinski and eating tubs of disgustingly delicious fatty foods. We stayed at mine till about 7 in the evening, and his smile was just that much brighter, and for that, I was thankful. He promised to find Isaac, who I had learned was the curly-haired Beta, and I made him swear on all things good that he would do it. He conceded, and I let him go home. I waved goodbye, and walked back into my house, preparing to wash up the dirty dishes, when another knock was heard at my door.

I looked around, wondering if Stiles had left anything, but walked to answer the door anyway. I giggled and joked, "See, I knew you couldn't stay away, I'm just that g-"

_Oh god._

Instead of seeing hazel eyes, I was looking into hard, sharp green ones, and in the place of the blinding smile Stiles always gave me was a frown the size of Texas. Derek Hale was at my house, and boy, was he angry.

**Uber short chapter, don't worry about it. This time she cant get away from it, Derek's here, she's here, and they both need to talk it out. Obviously, because they're both stubborn creatures, they wont just talk.**


	24. Chapter 24

Derek POV

I didn't even ask to walk in, I just pushed past her, sweeping the entire living room and only finding uneaten popcorn, ice cream and pizza covering every inch of the glass centre-piece table and the ending credits of a sappy romance film rolling across the screen. Why did that bug me so much? Her and Stiles, alone, watching a romance movie, cuddling on the sofa. The thought alone was enough to have me clenching my fists, and the frown on my face to deepen.

"You and Stiles getting acquainted?"

I knew my tone was dead, but I couldn't help it. It just wasn't in me to show how I felt. I wasn't good at it.

"Yeah.. He's awesome."

Did she not understand that I didn't want her around him? Around any other guys? The look on my face was probably one of pure fury, and I wasn't even going to try and quell it. I was mad, and she should know it.

"Hmm. I'm sure he is. So were you going to tell me you had left?"

She flinched, and I knew she was now frowning. Good. I hope she felt bad.

"When? Today or three years ago?"

That was a low fucking blow and she knew it. Now it was my turn to wince, and my heart felt like she was squeezing it in her tiny hands. My stomach dropped, and I haven't felt so queasy in my life. Not when I found Laura's body, or even when I heard about my parents death. This was a completely different kind of queasiness entirely.

My tone was bleak and angry when I seethed, "Either one's fine. We need to talk."

She laughed, but it was dry and a dead sound. I didn't like it, and my inner wolf whined and recoiled from it.

She bit out a laugh and "Well, my parents died. I couldn't stay here. So I left. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't deal. It was shitty of me, but I needed a change."

She was trying to get me to leave, I could hear it in her voice. She wasn't being honest with herself, or me, and that wasn't fair. If I was going to hurt, so was she.

"You needed a change? You didn't even tell me you were leaving! Yeah, that was a little bit more than shitty! You couldn't even stick around and tell me? Obviously I didn't mean all that much to you!"

She made a gruff, heavy sound of outrage, and shouted, "How can you even say that, Derek? I hate when you do this! You always did this! You made it out like I didn't ever care, when you were the most important person in my life! I- I cant even deal with you, or your bullshit. Get out, now, and don't fucking come back, you asshole!"

'When you were'? As in past tense? So there's someone else in her life? Well, if she thought I was leaving without a fight, she had another thing coming. She thought she was the only one who could shout? She thought she was the only one who was hurting?

I growled, loud and harsh, and the windows shook from the force of it. I stepped into her personal space and as I stood, looming over her, and bellowed, "How fucking dare _you_?! You know what, Lilac, I'm sick of hearing you talk like you're the only one who's hurting? **You **fucking left, not me!"

As quickly as I was able, I had her pinned to the door with either of my hands on both sides of her face, making it impossible for her to go anywhere. I wasn't letting her out of my sights, not until she had at least heard me out. I wasn't letting her go again, it wasn't.. fair. She needed to listen to what I have to say. She needs to hear me out. She needs to know how much she hurt me. I just wanted her to listen.

She looked up at me, and I could see the rage, frustration and pain shining visibly in her eyes, and I knew she was close to breaking. If I could just push her _just a little more, _maybe she's snap, and actually act on the feelings I knew she still had for me. I could smell it on her. She was so close. I needed her to break and let go completely.

She was practically exuding arousal, and it was sending me insane. I wouldn't do anything she didn't want to, nor was I going to instigate anything. She deserved feeling like this. I wanted her to be here, so badly for so long, but she just wasn't there. That's what it came down to. She wasn't there when I needed her and I was taking it out on her. Maybe I was smelling my own arousal, and it was clouding my judgement. I couldn't be around her anymore. I needed her to leave. I needed to be alone.

I pushed away from her, and sighed, more to myself than anything. I dug my palms into my eyes, and began walking away. My shoulders had sagged, and I lost all of the adrenaline and gusto I had been going on earlier. I just wanted to go home, and just be alone. It's what I'm used to, why should that change now? I knew for a fact that the rest of the guys were going to get sick of me today, so I should make sure I don't see them until I can get a cap on my emotions again.

I nudged her out of the way, ready to open the door and leave, when I heard her take in a deep breath, and step away from me. She was glad I was going. My eyes stung with that thought, and I shot out of the door, sliding into my Mercedes, slamming the car door behind me. I started the car up, and without looking back at her house, I drove off, speeding dangerously down the quiet road with wild abandon, not paying much attention to anything in particular. I didn't even notice I had arrived home until I pulled into the derelict driveway and tugged the keys out of the socket. I think I used too much force, as the key bent, then snapped, at the tip and that seemed to break something inside of me.

A key. A fucking key was the fucking catalyst that sent me over the edge, and the next thing I knew, I was tearing through the front window of my $25,000 car, switching to my half-human, half-alpha form, flitting through the forest at an inhuman speed, slashing chunks out of the foliage, trying to release some of my pent-up frustration and anger. My more animalistic side was pushing through my carefully constructed control, and piercing my restraint, and before I knew it, 'Derek' was gone. The creature was out and I couldn't do a damned thing to stop it.

And honestly, I didn't even want to.


	25. Chapter 25

Lily POV

How. **Dare**. He.

How _fucking_ dare he? The audacity of him. He actually tried to bring Kate into this?! I wanted to ask if she was here or if she had left after I did - I always had gotten on rather well with her. She had been hit far more emotionally that Derek was, but because she was his older sister, she tried to put up a front to protect him. I could see through it, she was hurting so much more than anyone noticed. That was why we had been such close friends after Derek and I got together, and for that I was glad. She was one person that I had genuinely missed in my time away for Beacon Hills.

I would make sure to ask Stiles, seeing as how he and Derek seemed to be so friendly with each other. Just thinking about Stiles being around Derek made my blood boil, and before I knew it, I had hurtled the lamp that was sitting innocently on the stand near one of the sofas in my living room and it collided with an almighty smash against the far wall. I was breathing heavily, and I could feel the tears burning behind my eyelids, causing me to rub the base of my palms into my sockets, trying to quell the stinging I was feeling.

How could he do this? I thought he loved me. I thought he'd at least miss me. I didn't expect him to forget the last few years, but it wasn't as if I had gotten off Scott-free. For the first few months, I always felt as though I was missing something inside me. Breathing was always a hassle for me, and I more or less had to drag myself out of bed every morning. It was only in the last few months, after I had been sure in my resolve to return to Beacon Hills and hunt down the bastard that murdered my parents, that my heart felt a little bit lighter.

I knew, deep down, that it was because of the slight possibility that I would see him again, but I didn't want to admit it - even to myself, so I burdened myself with hours and hours of constant training, keeping myself occupied and busy, making sure the time I was allocated to myself was kept to a minimum, as I knew I would only think about him. Thinking about my life, what it could have been and how it could have played out always was the most difficult for me to stomach, as I knew it was my decision to leave. I could have stayed, but I didn't. I took the cowards way out and left. I knew that already, I didn't need anyone to tell me that I made a mistake, let alone him.

I crouched down to the floor and without even realising it, I found myself pummelling down with both fists, crushing them with blinding speed against the hard wood floor, flinching at the pain, but only having it spur me on. I needed to relax, but I was too tense to do so. I felt the scream work its way from the base of my throat, and because I didn't want the neighbours to come over, only to find the broken glass and blood that was smeared from where I had just been abusing my floor, I reacted as quickly as I could.

I bit down on the back of my right hand, piercing the flesh and letting out a high-pitched, but muffled scream into my skin. I didn't stop screaming until I felt my throat become scratchy and sore, and I knew I would pay for it in the morning. I needed to work out the tension in my body, otherwise I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, and that would be bad, especially because tomorrow I would be totally focused on finding the criminal behind my parents gruesome death. I released my hand, and felt the blood run down into my palm in little rivulets and I gasped at the stinging sensation that ran through my hand.

I ran my hand under the cold tap for a few moments, and used some kitchen paper to dry and clean around the wound and made my way into the downstairs bathroom, in search of a first aid kit. Upon finding what I had been looking for, I proceeded to heavily smear cooling ointment all over both of my knuckles and over the bite mark, and subsequently wrapped both of my hands up in gauze, leaving my fingers and thumbs free. It took longer than I'd have liked as I had to fight away tears, not due to the physical pain but the emotional trauma and stress I was undergoing at that current moment.

After I finished, I immediately found myself grasping, ever so cautiously, a thick light grey sweatshirt and a khaki zip up hoodie that was hanging behind the front door, and kept my ¾ length sweatpants on. I slipped on a pair of thick ankle socks and threw on a pair of worn monochrome Converse and retied my hair up in a high ponytail, and left the house, leaving the lights on, and the television still running.

I was going for a long run, and I was glad that I left my mobile phone in my bedroom upstairs. Well, that was until I was attacked, of course.

**Unknown POV**

Well.. She's not as smart as I had initially thought, is she? Leaving the house, all alone, without even a phone to protect her? Was she so confident in herself? People like her made me sick. Always believing they were above everyone else, when really they were just like us. Lower, even! She was the scum of the Earth, and I knew that once I exposed her for being the animal that she was, _he_ would finally realise how pathetic she really is, and come back to me.

I growled lightly at the thought of my past, and sniffed the air, smelling the light scent of fresh blood, and felt my heart pump that much quicker. I loved this part. The chase. And I knew that she would give a good one. Get ready, bitch, because you're mine. Nobody can help you now.

**Holy fuck. Okay guys, who do you think this 'Unknown' is? **

**Also, should Stiles and Isaac get together, or should I make an OC? I know I've set it up like that, but I have something up my sleeve for them. Whoops, I've said a little bit too much, huh? Well, I hope you like it, and I promise, I wont take so long to update again.**

**Have a great day, and I love you guys. .**


	26. Chapter 26

**Lilac POV**

I started out in a light jog, cutting directly into the woodland area that surrounded my home, and found myself pushing my legs harder and harder, working through the tension in my body, and by the time I had reached some kind of lake, I was breathing heavier than I ever had and sweating bullets. The air was still chilly and there was a fog settling on the surface of the water, turning the air thick and humid. I used the nearest stump to take a break on, and felt the muscles in my legs begin to pulsate under the strain.

My forehead was dripping with pearls of sweat and I felt some drip into my vision. I had next to no energy left in my body, and I could barely even drag a hand across my brow to remove the offending perspiration. I quickly realised that I was in a very tricky situation, I mean anything could happen to me right now, and I would not be able to do shit about it. I needed to get home and into the shower, quickly. With a groan, I hauled myself up and winced at the initial tenderness in my thighs, and used the foliage near me as leverage and began limping back, retracing my steps back to my house.

I was about twenty minutes into my retreat when I was picked up and thrown against a very coarse, rough barked tree trunk and stared into the supernaturally-gold, bright eyes of a woman I had never seen before. No, really, I had no idea who she was. She was around 20 years old, and was fairly tan - as if she had been living somewhere constantly warm - and, even under the darkness of the night sky, I could see that she was very beautiful. Her hair was thick and a deep brown, brushing against the middle of her back, and some spilling down her front, covering her _ample_ female assets. She smirked with smug satisfaction and threw me even further into the forest, back the way I had just come from. I soared in the air for a few moments, and landed, heavily, on the hard, dusty floor, getting my sweatshirt muddy in the process.

I rolled onto my back, and flipped myself up onto my feet, a surge of energy blossoming inside my chest. I lifted my hands up, curling them into fists, as this woman was preparing herself to fight me. Before I was going to engage her in sparring, I wanted to know why she was trying to fight me.

With a strength in my voice that wasn't entirely my own, I demanded, "Why are you here?"

She smirked, once more, and I found it really irked me that she felt she was so much more intimidating than she really was. She was wearing a pair of shorts, denim, I believe, and a chiffon blouse tucked into them, possibly pink or coral in colour, I couldn't tell in this lighting. Needless to say, I looked like a homeless orphan compared to her, and even on my good days, I could never pull off that kind of confidence.

Her voice was just as beautiful as the rest of her and she said, maliciously, "I'm here to collect what's mine, of course."

I raised an eyebrow, and enquired, "And what is that, might I ask?"

She bit out a laugh, and paused, after which her expression turned feral and violent and she spat out, "My mate. You stole him away."

My eyes widened at the viciousness in her tone and I asked, quietly, "What are you talking about?"

I refrained from explaining further, even though I was itching to asking a million questions at once.

She curled her lip up in annoyance, and replied, "You know exactly who I'm talking about. Derek. He's my mate. You're stepping in on my territory, and I suggest you stop," she paused, and sadistically, she added, "I mean, he's got me. He doesn't need anyone else."

As soon as she mentioned his name, my entire body stiffened. It was like everything just stopped for a moment; my heart, my mind, the very blood pumping through my veins, it all just paused, as when it started again, I was working off pure instinct - my brain having been cut off from the rest of my body. I felt as if she had punched a whole in my chest and was just watching me bleed. Why did it feel so bad? I tried to smile, but it fell from my face as soon as I attempted to, and the tears started. They ran down my face in rivulets and the sobs began bleeding out of me. They were being wrenched from my very being, and I couldn't keep myself standing for much longer, and I eventually crumpled to the floor in a heap of emotion.

_This_ is what heartbreak felt like. I was so angry, so betrayed, so upset, it was too much for me. I was in the middle of the forest, bleeding and bruised all over, mud caking my clothing and in floods of tears. I couldn't stop, and every time I tried to speak, I hiccupped more and more violently until I wanted to be sick and I just gave up. That's all it was, I basically gave up. She waited for a moment, simply watching me, and then, after laughing maliciously for a while, only making me feel more shitty, and sauntered away, swaying her hips in what I believe would be seductive, if she wasn't the mistress of all evil.

I didn't know how long I stayed there for, and I really didn't care - that was what it came down to, I didn't care anymore. I knew that whenever anyone would look at me from now on, they'd see nothing but misery in my gaze. I didn't know why this hurt so much, I had already assumed he had someone else; why wouldn't he? He was perfect. He deserved someone equally as perfect, didn't he? It was just that, as soon as she mentioned being his mate, it broke something inside me. The concept of him actually mating someone else _hurt_.

Call me jealous, call me selfish, I really don't care. It was like, now, he completely belonged to someone else, and I would never get him back. This only ripped more tears from me, and I eventually fell asleep right there. In the middle of the forest. Covered in mud and shrubbery. On my own. Just like it had always been.

**Done.**

**I didn't like writing this chapter, because it's actually something I've experienced. Not the being beaten up part, or being left in the forest, of course, but having your heart broken **_**sucks**_**.**

**Thanks for reading this chapter, review if you can, and please, have a nice day, you beautiful people.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Stiles' POV

I waved at Lily as she closed the door behind her, and I slid into my beat up Jeep and simultaneously started her up, and pressed down on the acceleration slightly. I needed to get home quickly. Lily asked - read forced - me to speak to Isaac and I would have to eventually do so, otherwise she would skin my bony ass and wear it on her birthday. I pulled up on the sidewalk by my house, and stepped out, tripping slightly, and silently sending up a sarcastic thanks for my shitty equilibrium. Once I finished fumbling with my house keys, I stepped into the quiet foyer of my house, and threw the keys into the bassinet by the door - it had to be there, otherwise I'd lose them.

After my talk with Lily earlier, I felt a million times lighter than I had this morning, and I couldn't help but smile as I pictured her, probably cleaning up the mess I had purposefully left for her in respite of her crass jokes. Now that I wasn't as uptight, I could appreciate them, and I found myself laughing heavily. She was quick with the puns, I will admit. I kicked off my Chucks and walked upstairs, intent on jumping straight in the shower, once more, and getting ready for bed. Just because I told her I'd speak to Isaac didn't mean it took precedent over sleep. Nothing, but werewolf business apparently, was chosen over sleep. Sleep was precious. Sleep deserved to be loved.

I pushed open my bedroom door and grabbed some underwear and the nearest towel I could find on my way out and made a beeline straight to the bathroom without really paying attention to what was around me. I switched on the showerhead, and while I was waiting for it to heat up, I brushed my teeth. I undressed quickly, and bundled up the dirty clothes and threw them in a basket.

I tested the water, and grinned in satisfaction at the intense spray of heat. I loved a really hot shower, there was nothing better. I got straight under, and sighed in pleasure as the constant beat of the spray and after a moment's relaxation, I went to work on my body. Now, I wasn't at all as muscular as I'd like to be.. Who was I kidding? I was tiny compared to everyone else. I was pale and freckly and far to wiry, and then there were guys like Scott and Derek and Isaac.

Oh wow, thinking about Isaac so suddenly was reacting strangely with my body, and I found myself thinking back to this morning - waking up lying next to him, and before long, I was half mast. What? It's not my fault, I'm a perfectly normal, young man who liked to jack off sometimes. Most of the time. Okay, _fine_, all of the time.

Over time, I had found out that I was gay. You know, 100% attracted to men. I had come to this conclusion back when I was like, I don't know, 14 or so? I just hadn't done anything with anybody. I hadn't come out, per se, simply because I thought that Scott might have a problem with it. Not that he's homophobic or anything, because he isn't - he's completely cool with Danny being gay, and, obviously, so am I. It's just that we are - read were - best friends, and I thought he might get a little weirded out if I suddenly was attracted to guys. I especially didn't want to come out because middle school sucked. And I was already a very vulnerable target, and at the time, Scott was one too. Yeah, it was just a lot easier to go after girls who, frankly, kind of creeped me out more than anything else, than to be honest with myself, and my friends and family, that I was who I was.

I'm not exactly proud of it, but hey, I cant take it back now. I had planned on getting through high school, and once I started college, I would come out, and be fabulous and all that, but these feelings for Isaac, they just wouldn't go away. Not that I wanted them too, either. Honestly, I was glad that I could finally stop lying about being 'in love' with Lydia, because she.. She's just a bitch, I'm not even going to try and deny it in any sense of the word. I would much prefer to scalpel out my own tongue than be with her, in the way her and Jackson are together. I just have to lie about it, all the fucking time, and I'm getting sick of it.

I shook my head, and watched as the droplets of water cascaded down my chest and clung to my skin and dripped onto my cock. I glanced upwards and felt more than saw it pulsate with need. I tried to brush away the urge to touch, however I lost quickly, and wrapped my left hand around the base of my dick, and my right rubbed slowly against the head, which was now a deep purple colour due to the sudden rush of blood. I bit on my bottom lip, trying to quell the urge to moan out into the steamed bathroom.

I curled the fingers of my right hand around my shaft and I began stroking it along to an imaginary rhythm in my mind. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I closed them with a gasp as the tension bled down to the foot of my spine. I kept a firm grip around the base, making sure to not squeeze to hard to cause pain, or not too softly so the feeling would go away. This was always my favourite part of masturbation. Chasing the taste of the climax was perfection in a single sensation.

I couldn't keep quiet for much longer, and I began gasping out, rolling my hips and clenching my toes and eyes at the same time. I wouldn't be able to stand upright in a moment, so I released the base of my cock and laid my forearm on the tiles in front of me, and nuzzled my forehead in the crook of my elbow. I was thrusting into my own hand, imagining it was someone else's. Someone taller, more muscular. Someone with cheekbones that could cut diamonds and eyes as clear as ice. My heart was pumping so fast I could have had a heart attack right there.

It was almost there, if I could just.. Almost there.. I just needed to… Just a little bit mo-

I threw my head back and as the first shot of cum spurted from the head of my dick and splattered against the indigo tiles in front of me, followed by many, many more, I grunted out, "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," as the tingling flew from my cock to every nerve ending in my entire body and for a single moment, everything felt perfect. I could see stars behind my eyelids and I felt as if I could fly.

I was breathing heavy, and I watched as the cum swirled and drained down the plug hole, and when my legs stopped shaking, I stepped out of the shower and switched it off. I ran a hand across the mirror and one glance at my reddened face said more than a million words could. I had a ditzy smile on my face and a new shine in my eyes. My bottom lip was plump and red from all the biting and the skin on my collars were streaked and inflamed from when I had drew my blunt nails across it.

I wrapped the towel I had brought in from my bedroom around my waist, and tucked it in at my hip. I padded across the landing and pushed open the door to my room, and flicked on the light switch, and went about rooting through my chest of drawers for a pair of boxers and a t-shirt I could wear to bed.

"Nice to see you, Stiles."

**I hope you like this, guys! Have a great day, and I hope this Stiles-pepper up was what you needed! It's a bit late, I know, shoot me!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Stiles POV

"Nice to see you, Stiles.."

I jumped half way out of my skin, and span around, knocking my shoulders against the corners of the cherry wood dresser, and my heart beating wildly in my chest. I tightened my grip on my towel and my eyes fell on the cerulean gaze of one Isaac Lahey.

I stuttered out, "I-I-Isaac, what a-are you in h-here?"

He raised an eyebrow, and pushed off my headboard, to lean forward and put his chin in his interlocked hands. He shrugged and stated, absentmindedly, "Oh you know. I was in the neighbourhood, thought I'd stop by."

In an attempt to come across as being nonchalant, I said, "Ah, okay Spiderman. You were in the "neighbourhood"? Seriously?" and I mirrored his expression by raising my eyebrow and added, "Why are you really here, Isaac?"

I stepped further away from him, painfully aware that I was naked underneath this sheet of material, and I noticed his shoulders tensed as I did so. Quicker than my eyes could follow, he was on his feet and standing a few steps away from me, with a fiery, predatory gleam in his eye and a frown marring his features. He took a step towards me, and I took one backwards, and this repeated until I felt the sharp coolness of the door on my back, and he was directly in front of me, standing toe to toe, staring down at me, smirking to himself.

His tone was one of someone speaking to a young child as he retorted, "I'm here for you, Stiles."

A crease appeared in between my eyebrows and he chuckled and raised his hand to press and smooth the skin out. At the sudden contact between us, my eyes flittered closed without my permission and I breathed out lowly in relief. It was a strange feeling, being touched by someone whom you desired so deeply. I wondered idly if this is how Scott felt with Allison, and I almost, _almost_, forgave him for leaving me behind for this kind of relationship.

I glanced up at him - yeah, you can add short-ass to the list of things that God gave me - and whispered, "I don't understand, Isaac. You left earlier, and I thought I did something wrong, and I didn't know what happened, and I'm just so confused, I don't kn-"

I stopped mid-sentence as before I was able to finish, Isaac swooped down and kissed me. Square on the lips, and I melted into a pile of residual Stiles-goo. His lips were as soft as ribbons, yet there was so much explosive passion and pressure underneath the carefully placed, thin layer of control Isaac was trying to display. See, I wasn't having that in the slightest. If he was going to kiss me, he was going to _kiss _me like he meant it. I grabbed the front of his zip-up leather jacket, and pressed my chest closer to his, stepping up onto my tip toes and biting on his lower lip simultaneously.

That seemed to do the trick.

He tensed a little and I was worried I had taken it a step too far, however I was more than a little pleasantly surprised when he wound his arms around my waist, and pressed me harder into the door frame, so much so that I was sure the outline of the door would have been imprinted into my skin. His legs were bowed and curved to suit my own, which were shaking a little clumsily between his own. I only just noticed how large the height difference was between both of us, and I had to chuckle - in my mind of course, because _that _would be truly awkward.

He pulled out of the kiss first, but didn't stop pressing sloppily wet kisses along my jaw and collar bones, and I couldn't help but wind my hands into his feather-light, bronze locks, and sigh in pleasure. I felt his erection twitch in his pants as he had pressed so tightly against my body, and in return, I tightened my hands in his hair.

His breathing was minutely more heavy that usual, as was mine, and he breathed out, "Stiles, we.. We should stop, I-I need to.." then after a moments deliberation, he sighed, "Fuck it. Come here."

He pulled me from the door and half-way threw me onto my bed, watching as I bounced slightly on the mattress from the sheer force. I pushed myself to lie on my back, and he soon joined me, contorting his body to fit mine, and it was back to the kissing, which was something I was more than happy with commencing with. I was getting more and more confident with each passing moment, and I found myself reaching for his belt buckle, caressing his stomach muscles on the way down. I accidentally banged against the brass piece of metal with my finger, and that seemed to knock some sense into him, and he grasped both of my wrists with one of his own.

He smiled at the sudden worry that coursed through my veins, and he said, "Nu-uh, it's all about you tonight, baby."

I widened my eyes, and automatically tried to shut my knees together, only for them to tighten around his waist because of the way we were lying. He smirked, and added, flirtatiously, "See, I heard you.. In the shower, and I have to be honest.. I'd like to see the real thing for myself.. Is that okay, Stiles?"

I blushed immediately at the thought of him overhearing what happened, but then I realised what he was actually saying.

This was my way out. I could say no, and we'd stop. We'd go back to being just Stiles and Isaac, a little less than friends, a little more than pack brothers, and we'd probably never speak of this again. But I didn't want that. Not at all. I wanted everything with him. I wanted to see all of him. I wanted to taste all of him.

Wasn't it my turn to get something good in my life?

I lost my mom to cancer, I lost my best friend to some girl, I lost my dad to his job and I lost myself to the lies. I just wanted one thing, one thing, that would make me happy. My decision had been made from the first kiss this morning, I just hadn't realised it until now.

With a quirk in my lips, I replied, "Of course, I'm here, aren't I?"

**These last few chapters are all about Stiles and Isaac, and I hope you enjoy it. Stisaac are my second favorite ships of Teen Wolf, and I want to showcase them!**

**Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, and have a good day!**


	29. Chapter 29

Lily POV

Contrary to popular belief, waking up in the forest is actually a pretty awesome thing to experience. There was a remarkable sense of silence that greeted you even before your eyes had opened, and when you do eventually see what you're surrounded with, you cant help but hold your breath, as it is truly astounding to look at. The crisp morning makes everything around you feel more electric and alive, and the warm glow of the day keeps the leaves and foliage looking more alive that they would at any other time. The shimmering of the sun overhead shines against your body and seeps into your skin, causing you to feel refreshed and alive.

That is until general lack of appropriate clothing allows for the chills to seep into your skin and then you realise where you are. In the fucking forest. I stood up, far too quickly, and swayed on the spot, the blood rushing to my head and I leaned on a trunk of a tree to keep myself steady. I limped to the edge of the forest line, to the lake from earlier, and glanced around, wondering if anyone was near enough for me to shout for. Upon seeing nobody, I took the initiative, and went about finding my own way home, once again. Before I began walking, I dipped my fingers in the water, a shiver running down my spine at the low temperature, and I steeled myself. I wet my hands completely, and no matter how unsanitary or dangerous is was, I ran them over my face, washing away the sleep and dirt that caked my face.

I had to admit, after I did that, I felt considerably more awake and fresh, even though I still needed to brush my teeth and quickly. My mouth felt entirely too dry for it to be normal. Last night having been buried deep in the recesses of my mind, I went about the day with a fairly bright smile on my face, considering how heart wrenchingly miserable I was underneath it all. I knew if one tear escaped, I would be a wreck, and I didn't have the time or energy for that. I needed to stay strong, and if that meant locking a part of me away, then so be it. I carried on walking, in a straight line, only to divert when there was something in my path, and after, maybe 30 minutes or so, I was finally near a main road. Now.. Where I currently was, was a different question entirely. One I was going to have to find the answer too, and quickly. I checked my pockets, and found that I had a few dollars stuffed away, so I went about finding a store of some kind.

I stayed true to the roadside, not asking for help from any passers by, just in case one of them turned out to be a psychopath and tried to murder me.. What? It could happen! I must have been walking for about an hour before I even happened upon anything that wasn't green and, you know, living. As quickly as my ailed legs would allow, I hobbled into the mass of maybe 6 different buildings, all smaller than the home I owned in Beacon Hills, and found what seemed to be a store, if the fresh fruit and vegetables being showcased outside said anything, and instead of scoping out everyone else in the shop, I went about finding some bottled water, a toothbrush and a breakfast bar. I barely had enough to cover both, but at least I'd have consumed something.

I half way threw my money at the cashier and quickly left the establishment, taking a strong swig of the water, and walking back the way I came, bumping into a few fellows in my haste on the way. I had no idea where I was, and I could, literally, be in the middle of nowhere, and nobody would be able to find me. I was so lost in my own imagination that I didn't notice myself walking directly into the chest of a woman. Well I wouldn't have thought she was a lady, especially considering it felt like I had ran headfirst into a brick wall. After recovering from the tumble I had ultimately taken, I glanced upwards, into the grey eyes of an unfamiliar, gorgeous, young lady.

If I hadn't had reason to be self-conscious before, I most definitely did now. My hair was matted with dirt, and even though my hood had been drawn up, and my hair tied in a messy pony, people could probably still tell that I was a woman, and the pitying glances I had received on my way here said more than words needed to. I was having a rough day, couldn't I just look like shit, and be left in peace? What I hadn't expected however, was for her to be beautiful, and nice to me, and that was exactly what I had gotten.

Immediately after our collision, she reached down for me, and hesitantly helped me to my feet. I brushed off the newly acquired dirt on my grey ¾ lengths, and scratched at the base of my skull, noticing the dirt beneath my nails, and grimacing slightly. Her voice was soft and unrecognisable, so I knew I hadn't met her before, as she coddled, "Oh, dear, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been rushing. I didn't even see you, sweetheart. Are.. Are you okay?"

She had been brushing off my clothing getting off most of the removable mud, but froze minutely, as if someone had struck her from behind, and suddenly she stepped away, and began scrutinising me. I noted idly that she was from somewhere in Britain, most likely London, possibly the South if the twang said anything about her.

I stepped backwards, almost afraid of what her sudden, sharp gaze could do, and I mumbled, "Sorry.. I should've been watching where I was going. I'll be.. I'm sorry, do you know where _here_ is?"

She frowned for a moment, and replied, "You don't know where you are?"

I shook my head, my hood falling off for a second, and I could almost feel the stares being drawn to my brightly coloured hair. You know, for once, I sort of wished I hadn't gone so bright. The dirt was so visible in the blonde half that I might as well shine a beacon from my forehead that screamed 'slept in forest for the night'. I hadn't felt more low, more lost, than I had right now.

I fumbled with my hood, and she began speaking, "Chris, come here, hun, she's a strange one."

She was talking to me, but someone else, but she still maintained eye contact with me, which was kind of unnerving, almost as if she stopped looking at me, my entire being would dissolve into nothing but dust motes.

A man stepped out of the cabin we currently in front of, and boy, was he a beauty. He was tanned, like he spent a lot of time out, working with his hands, so a day-labourer of some kind, maybe a farmer or something. He had dark brown hair that had been recently cut, and a clean shaven face, so he took pride in his appearance - not necessary meaning that he was vain, but he took precautions. His eyes were a light blue, reminding me momentarily of Isaac, which subsequently reminded me of Stiles.. And how much he was going to _freak _out when he came over and realised I wasn't home. Not only that, but I hadn't even slept in my own bed that night.

This Chris slowly walked down the stairs of his cabin, and practically exuded testosterone. You know those manly men who act all big and tough on the outside but were probably big softies on the inside? Yeah, this wasn't him. He looked like he could kill an entire family, and it wouldn't bother him. His face was completely stoic, lacking in even a formal politeness that most democrats would have down pat. He was a no nonsense kind of guy, and I found myself liking him more and more each second.

Not in the 'omg-lemme-touch' kind of way, but it was more like he would be really cool to talk to, as he wouldn't bullshit. He'd tell you exactly how it was straight, damn the consequences. I liked that honesty. I kind of needed it right now. He took in my attire and stared at me straight in the eye and froze, the same way she had.

His tone was abrupt and final when he practically ordered, "Iris. In the house. Now."

She made a face of disgruntlement, but did as she was told, and it was then that I noticed it. They were werewolves, and he was her Alpha. That made me even more nervous, as I really wasn't emotionally, physically or mentally able to fight an Alpha, I mean, what human was? I needed to get out of there quickly, and I halfway turned to do so when I heard him state, "You do that and I'll hunt you down and tear you apart.. With my teeth."

I gulped and turned my body to completely face him, but kept my eyes on everything but him. I didn't know why I felt so open and vulnerable but I did, and I was not at all comfortable with that.

He stepped forward once more, causing me to cry out a little, and enquired, "Where's your Alpha, human?"

I didn't understand the question, but thought it best if I stayed quiet, it would do me no good if I ran my mouth right now.

He growled lowly, and stated, "I don't do well with repeating myself, human. Where is your Alpha?!"

Everyone else seemed to have fled the scene as soon as Chris stepped out of his cabin, and I knew that I was in deep shit. If everyone else was too frightened to leave their homes, then what's to stop him from dragging me back into his cabin and maiming, killing and burning me alive? Oh yeah, that's right! **Nothing**.

I stammered a little when I replied, "I-I don't have a-an Alpha."

He raised an eyebrow, and huffed out a response, "Then why do you smell like you do? Don't lie to me this time. I can sense it."

I swallowed dryly, and silently wished I had taken more than one sip of my water, and I reiterated, "I am being honest. I don't have an Alpha. You can probably smell werewolves on me, okay yeah, but I don't have an Alpha. I don't belong to a pack."

He stayed silent for a while, and that made me very nervous. I was itching for a bath, literally, and he was making me feel far too exposed to be healthy. It was then that he reached for me, and I flinched heavily, reaching to protect my face at least, but was shocked to find him only grasping for my wrist, to pull me inside his cabin.

Well this wasn't anything better, but at least I wont have to die in the cold, I suppose.


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**Isaac POV**

After storming out of Stiles' bedroom earlier this morning, I've felt completely on edge all day. My hard-on progressively dissipated on the car ride back to the house, so I didn't have to worry about any awkward boners to ruin my day even further. I got back to the house within record time and Erica was the first to ask me how the night had went. I snapped at her, telling her to mind her own business, and she just smirked, knowing exactly what had went down - she could smell both Stiles' and my arousal on the clothes I had been wearing. Just because her and Boyd probably fucked on every flat surface until the rise of the sun didn't mean everyone else had.

I went straight in the shower to work out the kinks in my shoulders and relieve the tension in my muscles, and when I emerged from the bathroom, I felt significantly more relaxed. I was still pissed, but I felt better about it. I had tried reading, which was always something that I could do to get my mind off of shit, but that didn't work. I ended up ripping a few pages in one of my favourite books, and I punched a hole in my bedroom door in response. I growled and snarled at the most inconsequential shit, and even I knew I was being an asshole.

I knew I had gone too far when I had blurted out some particularly hurtful things at Erica even though, in hindsight, I knew she was only trying to help. Erica didn't bother me much after hearing that. I felt like a grade A asshole, and after I thought about what I had said, I tried to apologise. I knocked on her door, quietly and heard her soft reply, "Go 'way Isaac."

I ignored her response and pushed open her door - Derek had ordered us to never lock our doors, just in case of a family emergency or something, so we never did - and I walked, slowly, further into her bedroom. She was sitting on her bed, with her knees curled under her chin and her arms wrapped around herself, and her blonde curls splayed to hide her face from me.

I felt my heart lurch painfully in my chest and my stomach churned and I knew I had fucked up. I sat down on her bed, dipping it slightly, and I pushed myself further up onto her bed so my back was against her headboard, and my feet were crossed at the ankles. I glanced over at her, and waited a moment before stating, resolutely, "I was.. I am being an asshole. I'm sorry, Erica. I'm just.. I just feel so.. Angry over what happened with Stiles. It's not an excuse, I'm taking the stress I'm feeling out on everyone, especially you, and I'm sorry for that. I shouldn't be so hard on you, you're only trying to help. I'm sorry, can you forgive me?"

She was silent for a while and eventually, I went to leave her bedroom, only for her to cuddle into my side, and push her head into my neck. We usually did this all the time; while watching movies, eating dinner, whatever. Derek insisted it was because Erica and I were changed near enough around the same time, we had a stronger bond than Boyd and I did.

That did not mean that Boyd and I weren't close, because we were. Boyd was my big brother, in a sense. He was 'older' than I was, and more in tune with his wolf. I didn't know why Derek hadn't made Boyd his second, because let's be honest, Scott's an idiot. We all know it, he probably knows it, and Derek sure as hell knows it.

Erica's quiet voice dragged me out of my thoughts, and she whispered, "Yeah, you are being a jerk. You're luck you apologised, because Boyd was so ready to kick your ass, I had to beg him not to."

I nodded my head, because I didn't doubt that at all. Boyd and Erica had been mated for about 4 or 5 months now, and he was so very protective of her, it was almost comical. It was funny to watch, but I knew how he felt. Every single time Stiles got himself into any kind of trouble, I wanted to kill everything in sight, but I couldn't, as he wasn't aware of my feelings.

Well he hadn't been anyway, and he still wouldn't have been, if I could have kept my damned emotions under control.

I didn't want to force myself on him - what kind of mate would that make me? He was the perfect guy - outrageously funny, hot as fuck and he always was smiling. His smile was the thing that drew me in immediately. Always so bright, and those dimples? Fuck, I needed to stop it. I was going to give myself a headache. Erica once again hit the nail on its head and asked, "Stiles?"

I nodded, solemnly, and she enquired, "You wanna tell me what happened this morning, Isaac?"

I shrugged my shoulders, childishly, and she chuckled, softly, and pinched my cheeks, receiving a glare from me in return. She stared at me for a while, until I gave in and scoffed out a sharp, "Fine!" and went about telling my story.

As soon as I finished, she scuffed me in the back of the head and half-screeched, "So you just left?!"

I looked anywhere but at her, and she took that as a yes. She made sounds of indignation and she cried out, firmly, "You go back to that house and you tell him how you feel!"

I shook my head and glanced at the alarm clock in her room, and consoled, my tone very matter of fact, "It's only half 4, he's not gonna be in."

She raised an eyebrow and I continued, "He's going over to that Lily girl's house."

She froze and asked, "The one who saved Boyd and I?"

I nodded, and she sucked in a breath and rubbed at her wrists which had healed minutes after she had gotten home the previous night, and whispered, "He knows her? I need to speak to her, I need.. No Isaac, you don't get it. She saved my life. The life of the man I'm in love with. I can't.. No, stop looking at me like that. I want to give her my thanks, as soon as I can."

I nodded once more, and I stated, "I don't really like her being around him."

She turned to look up at me, and she couldn't help but grin and she joked, "Oh, ikkle Isaac is jealous, is he? Oh, Boyd, baby, Isaac's jealous, did ya hear?"

I blushed brightly as Boyd, who had been making Erica some lunch in the kitchen, gave a simple, rather resigned 'Mmm, I heard' to the conversation. Sometimes I forget that we had superhuman hearing, and that meant _everybody_ in the entire house heard _every_ single conversation.

She laughed at my embarrassment, and chuckled out, "You know she's with Derek, right? Or at least she will be. She's still in love with him, she just cant see it yet, past all that frustration. There's nothing to be worried about. And anyway, Stiles is as gay as they come. Why would you be worried about them being together?"

I shook my head and I mumbled, "You don't know that Stiles is gay, for sure."

She laughed, and comforted, "Please, Isaac, sweetie, I know that Stiles is gay. He's almost too gay to function. Plus, he kissed you back. Stiles isn't the type to just throw himself at the nearest person just because they'll give him some, he's really sweet. Please, for me, just go for it Isaac, I promise you wont regret it."

It took a lot more time and effort than it probably should have, but eventually, at nearly 7 in the evening, a time when I knew his dad would be out at work, I was dressed and on my way to Stiles' house. God, I nearly turned around about 6 times on my way there, but eventually, I calmed my nerves and stilled my shaking hand, and made my way up the side of his house, scaling the wall by using the tree in his side garden as leverage.

Stiles really should be more careful. He left his window open and everything. I would have to talk to him about that. My wolf whined in response, he didn't like Stiles being in danger like this. From what I could hear, Stiles was in the shower, so I took a seat, on his bed, and got comfortable, because now that I was here, there was no way I was leaving without actually letting Stiles know exactly how I feel, and hearing what he had to say in return. I didn't want to go the rest of my life asking 'what if'. That would kill me.

I must have been in his room, surrounded by his delicious scent for all but 5 minutes before I started hearing the moans from the bathroom. I had to sweep the bathroom once, just in case someone else was in there with him, and the surge of jealousy that swarmed my blood surprised me greatly. I could hear the sound of friction, a noise only achieved through the act of masturbation. Stiles was.. Jerking off in the shower? He's actually touching himself in the shower.

The sounds of the rasping and his heavy breathing, the scent of his arousal permeating the air and the feel of his building orgasm had my cock hardening in my jeans, and I had to literally beat back the urge to touch myself. This went on for a few minutes, and I could feel the awakening of the desire for him build in my spine, and I ran my hands through my hair, winding my fingers in my tresses and tugging harshly on them to keep myself in check. I was so close to bursting into that bathroom and fucking him into the shower wall to the point of near insanity that I could almost feel myself slipping into my natural, animalistic state.

His strokes became more and more erratic and the pleasure built so strongly in my abdomen that I had to unzip my jeans to relieve some of the pressure that had grown too strong for me to bear. Pre-come stained the tent in my grey boxers, darkening the material slightly, as not-so little Isaac stood at full attention. Thanks to my lycan genes, I was a little bit larger than the average Joe and I couldn't help but smirk at that. I would have no problem impressing Stiles in that department, I was sure of it.

There was a beat of silence, and Stiles groaned out a low and long, "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck" and I had made up my mind. Stiles was going to be mine, even if I had to eliminate every other candidate for his attention. He was mine, and he was going to know it by the end of the night. I tucked myself back into my jeans, although I was a little tender and sensitive, I was fairly confident with how this night was going to end.


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**Lily POV**

He threw open the front door, and nudged me inside and I was immediately hit with how warm and cosy the room actually was, and I couldn't help but shiver in delight. He closed the door behind him, and dictated, dismissively, "The bathroom is upstairs. Iris is waiting for you there."

I opened my mouth to ask why they were being so nice to me, rather than just killing me, which is something they could have done easily. He walked into what I believed was the kitchen, leaving me in the fur-lined living room, and I slowly, lugged myself up the stairs, and onto the landing. Standing outside a room was this 'Iris' woman, and she had released her hair from the bun it had been in been in beforehand, and I could see how brightly coloured her tresses actually were. She was a natural ginger, and a beauty at that. Her hair was long and curly, far curlier than I had first thought and her eyes glinted dangerously in the dim lighting of the hallway, and she beckoned me into the bathroom with an exaggerated wave of her fingers.

I smiled a little, and stepped into the bathroom, which was decorated similarly to how every other room in the cabin was. There was a circular tub in the far corner which was halfway filled with hot, steaming water. The steam in the room smelled like scented oils, vanilla and jasmine and I inhaled deeply, smiling to myself in recognition. There were a few coloured towels folded up on the rack by the sink, which was pearl white in colour and shone in the streaks of light emerging from the open window above the shower head.

I walked further into the bathroom, very weary of scuffing up the tiles floors with my positively filthy, muddy, worn shoes, and it was shown in my attitude. I was half-curled in on myself, and I wanted nothing more than to run way from the rest of humanity and just shrivel up and die. I had no means of contacting anyone, and I didn't even know where I was. I mean, I couldn't be _too _far from Beacon Hills - I would still have to be in California, right? Nobody could walk completely out of a state without realising it.

I turned to face Iris, and asked, "Where am I right now?"

She smiled, lovingly, and replied, "You're in the Beacon County Vacation Centre, sweetie, the nearest town is Beacon Hills. You probably wandered in from there, right?"

I nodded, and whispered, "Beacon County, huh? I need to get back home, nobody knows I'm out here."

She chuckled, and indicated at the bath once more and said, firmly, "Jump in and then we'll talk, sweetie."

I smiled at her hospitality, and she stepped out of the bathroom, giving me some space and privacy, although I had no doubt that they could hear the unsteady beating of my heart, thumping away in my chest. I undressed and folded up my dirty and torn clothes and placed them in the corner near the toilet, careful to remove the toothbrush I had bought earlier from my jacket pocket, and quickly slid in the bath, sighing in relief and simultaneously pulling my hair from the pony tail it had been in previously, and let my hair cling to the dirt on my shoulders and neck. The bathtub was large enough for me to dunk my head in completely, over and over again, and when I was able to wipe the water from my vision, I could see how murky the water had gotten.

The mechanics of the shower were fairly easy to figure out, and I switched it on, wincing at the initial cold of the spray and easing in once it fluctuated and evened out at a nice, warm temperature. I unplugged the bath and watched as the water level descended and finally swirled down the drain, remnants of the dirty from my hair slipping away with it. I glanced around once, searching for some kind of shower gel and shampoo and grinning like a madman when I located them. A mint, green tea and aloe vera mix. Oh wow, it smelt divine.

I squeezed the container and watched at the gel ran into my palm, and quickly went to work on my body, scratching and scrubbing away the grime that had developed on my skin. I was pleasantly surprised to see how happy I was while I was cleaning myself; it was almost like I was washing away all of the bad feelings from the night before. I bristled, then grimaced, and then shook my head clear of those memories. I didn't need to focus on that. Today was a day for Lilac, and nobody else.

Once I was done on my body, from in between my fingers and toes to underneath my nails, I started on my hair, and during my shower, I had decided to dye my hair back to its original colour; a light brown. It was such a boring and common colour, but it was my natural one, and I felt that, right now, I needed to get back to my roots - literally. Sorry, that was a bad joke, but can you blame me? I needed some self-depreciating humour to brighten up my day. Some of the blue pigment ran down the drain along with the now soapy, but clear, water and I knew that soon, my hair was going to look more baby-blue than the azure it was intended to be.

I switched off the shower, and stepped out of the tub, wrapping my now squeaky clean body with a stripy towel and went to pick up my dirty clothes, only to find them missing. That made me quirk an eyebrow, and after I quickly brushed my teeth, scrubbing viciously at my gums, I slid open the door and was greeted with the sight of Iris, once more, and this time, she was holding out a pair of shorts and a rather large t-shirt, probably belonging to another male in the house - as she would **never **allow me to wear her Alpha's clothing, especially if she were his mate, which is what I had assumed she was. Don't ask me, it's some weird 'claim-y' thing that they do. Scent, body, mind and soul all belong to the wolf's mate, and I wasn't going to question that.

I smiled and reached out for the attire, bowing my head slightly in thanks, and she led me to a bedroom - designed identically to the living room. There was fur lining the floor, probably some kind of bear that called the brush round here its home, and there was a fairly large, squared fire place on the far wall, opposite the bed, and a window, seated at an angle, as it was made to fit into the roof. I assumed this was the attic of the house, and if the messy, unmade bed said anything, this was actually someone's room. A very unorganised someone at that. There were belts, shoes (heels, I noticed) and clothes scattered all over the floor, and I wondered where this mystery person was right now.

Iris drew my attentions from the bedroom, and she stated, "There's underwear in there too. You're clothes are being washed downstairs, and they should be dry in a few hours. Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat?"

I shook my head, and she left once more. I quickly dropped the clothes on the bed, and in a last ditch attempt to bring some kind of order to this room, I fixed the bed, so that I would at least be able to sit down without actually being inside the bed itself. I quickly threw on the underwear, and was pleasantly surprised to see that not only did they fit me, it was very comfortable and fairly pretty to look at. They were a sea-green combo, and I admired how the colour seemed to accentuate my light tan even more. I shook my head, some of the loose strands dripping moisture onto my now dry body and I went about towel drying my hair, as quickly as possible.

Following this, I dressed myself, foregoing tucking in the obviously too large, grey v-neck shirt into the form-fitting shorts and leaving it out. Instead of accidentally insulting whomever this room belonged to any further, I gathered the now sopping wet towel and on my way back downstairs, I threw it in the dirty basket in the bathroom that I had noticed when I first stepped into it. Soundlessly - or at least to a fucking human it would be soundless - I padded down the wooden stairs, and was met with another man I hadn't met before, and I was instantly on high-alert. He was sitting on the singlet sofa, facing the television, with his feet up and a cup of something that looked suspiciously like whiskey in his right hand.

He chuckled, and said, absentmindedly, "You can relax, you know, human."

I scrunched up my face at that stupid nickname, and also at the British accent that sounded off from the chair, and I assumed that both Iris and this man were from the same area, which meant they were most likely siblings, and smarmily replied, "Who says I'm not relaxed?"

He turned his head slightly in my direction, but did not directly address me when he said, patronisingly, "I do, kiddo."

I scoffed, and crossed my arms over my chest and enquired, equally as patronisingly, "And who are you, exactly?"

He kicked his feet off the table in front of him and set his 'drink' down, only to stand and face me, with his stature mirroring mine to perfection and he stated, "Jared. Jared Pope. And that's my shirt you're wearing."

And it was at that moment that my body and mind seemed to sync and when I had realised what I had done, my cheeks bled red and I chewed nervously on my bottom lip.

I stammered out, "Ah.. Sorry, I don't really t-think before I speak."

He chuckled, and started in my direction, only to walk into the kitchen behind me, and call behind himself, "You coming or what, human?"


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Stiles POV

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, Isaac went in for the kill. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, around my shoulders, gripping my throat, under my thighs, and I felt like I was on a speeding train, everything going far too quickly for me to truly enjoy it properly. Don't get me wrong, I loved the feel of his tongue on my neck, and the pads of his fingers as they stroked along my ribs and my waist, but I wanted to be able to do the same for him.

I wanted to reciprocate as well as receive - it didn't seem exactly fair that we both had _problems _but only one of us would get pleasure from it. Every time I would reach for his belt buckle, if only to release his obviously uncomfortable erection, he would swat my hands away and I couldn't help but let the small voice in the back of my mind chip away at my confidence.

_He's only here to fuck you then leave, you know that right, Stiles. Why would he stay with you? What do you have to offer? Exactly, nothing. Scott left you because you're worthless. You're dad can't stand being around you because he cant bear to look at his only son. Who do you have left?_

Before long I had tears prickling in my eyes, and Isaac stilled completely. He pulled away from the crook of my shoulder to glance up at me, and I tried to turn my head away to hide my tears from him. I didn't want him to see how self-conscious I was feeling right now. I didn't want him to pity me, and even more then that, I didn't want him to leave me like this. He pulled away even further, so that now he was straddling my abdomen, but putting next to no pressure on me, so I could barely feel his weight. What I could feel, however, was the tautness of his thighs and I could almost feel the sharpness in his gaze as he glared at me face and naked chest.

Why was it that I had to be the one who was naked? I tried to cover myself up with my arms, but long fingers wrapped around my wrists and intertwined our fingers together, as he pressed my hands further into the mattress. His tone had dropped octaves in the time we had been fooling around, and now his voice was raspy and rough when he asked, "Are you crying, Stiles?"

I shook my head, but kept my gaze on the wall, and I felt him clasp my chin tightly, and snap my neck to face him, and I gasped sharply at the hostility in his now amber orbs. I glanced downwards and saw that his claws had sheathed and had pierced the sheets below us, that he had gripped too tightly onto. His voice was sharp and angry when he spat out, "Look at me when I'm talking to you, Stiles."

I whined, low in my chest and bared my throat instinctively. I couldn't understand why but I didn't like him being mad at me. There was something burrowing deep inside of me that wanted to roll over and let him do whatever he needed to get him back to being the relaxed and happy Isaac he was a few moments ago. I couldn't speak, I could barely breathe, and my mouth felt dry. There was a pressure building beneath my skin and it was prickling at my mind, making itself known to me and becoming more and more difficult to ignore.

In an attempt to defuse the situation, I whimpered, "I-I just.. I don't know what I'm doing Isaac."

He sighed a little, and his entire being seemed to deflate and he stepped off of me, onto my bedroom floor, and reached for his jacket that had been discarded earlier in our frenzy. A cleft appeared between my eyebrows, and I asked, hurriedly, "Where.. Where are you going, Isaac?!"

My voice was raised and alarmed, and seemed to snap him somehow, and he swirled around, rage heavy in his eyes, as well as a smidgen of betrayal and, was that hurt? I couldn't tell, it was gone too quickly for me to correctly identify.

His voice was just as loud, if now louder, and there was an undercurrent of a growl in it as he bellowed, "Where the fuck do you think I'm going?! I'm leaving, I'm going home!"

This time I couldn't stop the tears and they overflowed, trailing my cheeks in thick, heavy rivulets, and fell off my chin, staining my navy bedcovers. I ran a hand over my still-wet hair, and stammered, "I-I don't understand. W-What did I d-do wrong? I'm sorry, I j-just.. Oh my god," and I threw my hands up into the air, completely worn out and unable to even explain myself.

My inability to truly put across how I was feeling was what was frustrating me, and I couldn't help but groan as Isaac continued to stare at me, as if I had grown a second head. I was shaking with how hard my sobs were crashing over me, and I had my hands covering my eyes, in an attempt to at least hide my breakdown from him. I didn't need him to stay around just because he felt sorry for me - no matter how much I may have wanted him to.

When he spoke this time, it was significantly more subdued, and held a hint of guilt, "Don't cry, please. I.. I don't like it when you cry."

Slowly, he made his way over to me, and I heard him sigh as he sat on the edge of my bed, dipping the mattress with his weight and he tapped a hand on my bare knee. Thankfully, in this whole ordeal, my towel had remained covering my _manly-parts _so I saved myself the embarrassment of trying to hide a very prominent boner, one of which I really needed to sort out if I were ever to get to sleep anytime soon.

He shuffled his way up to where I was on my bed, with my back to my headboard, and he wrapped his arms around my shoulder, drawing my body to his own, and just hugged me. His voice was muffled in my shoulder, and my body involuntarily shuddered in response as it tickled, as he whispered, "Take your time, and say what you need, baby."

A few seconds past, and my blubbering quietened down, and my cheeks bloomed red in embarrassment at how I had acted. I didn't know why I started throwing such a tantrum, but I was glad that he was holding me. It was like we were polar opposites, completely drawn to each other. I knew that if he were ever to cry in front of me, I'd do anything and everything in my power to make him feel better, and, now, I knew he felt the same.

I took in a deep breath, and mentally readied myself for the possible rejection, and I asked, "Would I.. No, would you show me how to make you feel good?"

He raised an eyebrow, and said, with a little, silly smile on his face, "You already do make me feel good, Stiles."

I shook my head, miffed that he wasn't getting my point, so I took the initiative and quickly grasped his erection through the fabric of his jeans, all the while measuring his expressions on his face, which morphed from pleasant surprise to shock, to hesitance and then to desire. His pupils were blown wide and his gaze was darkened with unbridled lust and passion. I could see that he wanted something from me, I just didn't know what it was exactly.

He bit down on the shell of my ear and began licking and sucking down my jaw line, and whispered against my skin, "You want to learn? Okay, fine by me. Just don't say I didn't warn you, m'kay?"

I nodded, determined to take on whatever he gave me, and was taken by surprise and a little more than somewhat stunned as he flipped me onto my other side, so now I was facing the wall, and we were spooning - like we were when I woke up this morning. He reached for the towel and tugged, but before he completely got the material off, I grasped for the quilt and pulled it to cover myself from the waist down.

He growled dangerously in my ear, and nibbled along my collar bone in warning, and he ran his flat palm across the now uncovered part of my body. He started with both his fingers flittering along my mid-section, like before, only he was creeping further and further downwards, so he was grasping firmly at my hips and ass.

His touch was rough and experienced, but soft and light in relation to how I expected him to be. Any animal when they're leading up to, or are having sex is one of the most animalistic and impulsive things you could ask of them, and a werewolf is no different. I read up on heat cycles, and everything, I needed to if I was going to spend time around them every day. I wasn't about to get manhandled and raped just because I wore the wrong smelling cologne.

He pulled me out of my day dream by hoisting me up, so the soles of my feet were touching the front of his calves, and I heard him unzip his trousers. He pressed his _impressive _length against my bare back, and I couldn't help but picture what it looked like. Would it feel as thick and hard inside me as it did against my skin? Would it be as tanned and gorgeous as the rest of him? Oh I hoped so.

He whispered in my ear, "Do you want to see me, Stiles? All of me?"

I nodded, shakily, and he moved away from me, for only a second, as he rid himself of his boots, jacket, shirt, trousers, followed by his boxers and then he slid back in. The warmth from before had nothing on being held by him, skin-on-skin. Was this a werewolf thing? Like, did they just run hotter than everyone else, just because they fucking could? I felt the tips of his fingers as they traced the length of my spine, and I gasped out into the cool, night air of my bedroom.

He chuckled, and turned me back around, holding my eyes in a gaze that could have thawed ice. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but was forced to swallow it back up as he attacked my lips in a feverish medley of kisses. He gasped himself as my hands made their way from his biceps to his abdomen and back up again. Trying to handle all of this man-piece was going to be a challenge, and you know me, I never give up on a challenge, so I did my best.

Before long, I was on my back, with him lying on top of me, and our bodies colliding in ways I had never thought possible. It was long past the time for cognitive, sensible thoughts and now it was all action. All instinct. I keened a little as he brushed against my ass once more, and trusted upwards, only to have our erections mesh together and collide deliciously. A shiver made its way up my spine, and I raced to do it again, and again, and again. I was breathing heavily, as was Isaac, and I dug my blunt nails harder into his brawny shoulders. Isaac froze immediately and pleasure bloomed in his eyes. He nodded, and whispered, "This doesn't feel quite right, one second."

He grabbed both my legs and wrapped them around his waist and ground his waist into mine in a way that I could only scream out in pleasure at, and he garbled out, "Come on Stiles.. Just- Ah, just, fuck, there. There," he wrapped his talented fingers around the head of my cock and began stroking in time with my thrusts, creating some kind of paradoxical friction that had my eyes rolled into the back of my skull. I tightened my legs around his waist, and he nuzzled his face in my shoulder once more. I grasped his hair in my hands and I tugged harshly as I groaned beneath him. I wasn't going to last very much longer than this, and it was all down to his breathy moans of, "Come on, Stiles. You're almost there. Cum for me, baby. Show me who you belong to."

I came. I came hard. I came so hard my vision went blurry and white, long enough for me to scream his name into the darkness, and for me to feel him tense and bite deeply in the crevice of my shoulder, and his sticky, warm cum splatter across our bare, clammy torsos. He marked me. It was tingling every nerve ending in my body, just like before only more intense and concentrated, and as the afterglow of my first real given orgasm seeped into my skin, I could see that there was something new between us.

Something that wasn't there before. Something unbreakable. Something loving. Something perfect, and I would be damned if I let anything come in between us again.

**Well, well, well. Look what we have here. Some soft-core Isaac/Stiles - hope you liked it.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Lily POV**

After following 'Jared' into the kitchen, I had to endure a somewhat awkward conversation between Chris and I, where he continually insisted that I belonged to an Alpha, of which I vehemently denied, which only proved to irritate and annoy him further, and eventually I rescinded, and simply agreed, to save face as well as an unnecessary argument, which I would have probably lost anyway.

He sighed, gruffly, and asked, "If you have a pack, why are you alone?"

Warily, I averted my eyes and took a gander around the kitchen, only to met the reproachful stare of Iris and the pitying glances from Jared, and I looked to the floor, unable to answer for the moment.

Iris smiled, and she assured me, effortlessly, "If it's pack business, you can just say, sweetie."

I shook my head, and replied, "No, it's not.. I just, well," I lifted up my bruised and split knuckles, and continued, "I sort of got into a fight, and, well, here I am."

The Alpha in question raised an eyebrow, and asked, brashly, "And they left you to fend for yourself?"

I winced at his tone, and responded, sheepishly, "I guess they didn't know about it. I sort of went into the woods alone, and she came out of nowhere."

They all shared a look, and fumed, in unison, "She?"

My eyes widened fractionally, and repeated, "Yeah, she. Never seen her before, she must have been following me, or something. Dark hair and amber eyes, so I assumed she was a Beta of some kind. I couldn't see much of her face or anything, she just threw me clean across the forest. I didn't know what was happening, I barely had enough energy to keep myself standing. And then she told me-"

I cut off abruptly as a blooming pain just spread through my torso and mind, setting everything it brushed across alight. I couldn't breathe, and I clutched at my chest. I couldn't keep my head upright, and I felt my entire frame shake with the sudden weight of the invisible force that was just thrust upon my already fragile shoulders, and I suddenly fell to my knees, on the ground, and the tears began dripping down my face. Slowly and silently at first, but gaining energy and vigour with each passing moment until I was nothing more than a shuddering wreck, shaking and sobbing on the kitchen floor.

Iris was the first to help me, her maternal instincts taking over, and she hauled me into the living room, and sat me in a rather deceivingly comfortable sofa, and went about finding me some tissues for my tear stained, reddened cheeks. Chris stood opposite me, an incredulous, yet cautious stare etched into his eyes, and through my tears, I could see the pity there. He knew what I was experiencing. I suppose it is what withdrawal felt like for drug addicts, only in this instance, it was the pain over losing a mate, rather than recreational medication.

I tried to speak, and explain why I was such a mess, but every time I opened my mouth, the sobs that escaped me were nothing close to sounding human, and I eventually receded back into my mind, wordlessly praying for Chris to recognise my heartbreak. He nodded minutely, as Iris and Jared were still out of the room, and took the seat to my right, and placed an awkward yet comforting hand on my knee, tapping it, while simultaneously whispering, "I understand, Pup."

Iris returned soon after that, and Christopher removed himself from the room, and allowed both Iris and I the privacy to deal with me and my tears, and for that I was beyond thankful.

"It's okay, deary, I know it's difficult, you don't have to tell us the rest of the story until you have calmed down, so you can stop crying now, sweetheart."

Her soothing voice lulled me into a sense of calm and I felt, rather than made, my tears slow, then eventually stopped, and now, all I felt was the weighty urge to just curl in a pathetic ball and sleep the rest of my life away, however, apparently that wasn't in my cards this morning, as Iris sat on the arm of the chair, and wiped a wet cloth across my cheeks, wiping away the salty tears, and shook her head, disapprovingly, at the blotched state of my skin there.

She smiled as she finished, and said, lovingly, "Now, doesn't that feel better, sweetie?"

I nodded my head, despondently, and turned my face away, not quite ready to deal with the upcoming onslaught of emotion that I would eventually feel at the hands of that.. _bitch. _I clenched my teeth together, and my jaw twitched in frustration over my situation. Here I was crying, and they were probably in his home, with his pack all happy, and I was miserable. Unshed tears stung my eyelids once more, and I blinked them away, quickly, unwilling to cry anymore in the current moment.

My throat was croaking, and I glanced at Iris, and saw she was staring at me, worriedly. Upon catching my eye, she nodded at the table in the centre of the room, and I saw there was a pitcher glass full of water, a few ice cubes tinkling on the surface, and greedily, I went about halfway inhaling the liquid. Water had never felt so good as it slid down my parched throat, and bloomed in my stomach, a cool sensation spread through my body for a few moments, before fading away, and a chill running through my spine. Since when did water taste so good?

"So.. Chris wants to know where exactly you lived in Beacon Hills, so Jared can drop you off home," she saw that I was preparing to argue, so she quickly and firmly stated, "No, no excuses. It's 3 miles to get there, and that's what? An hour? Two? And you havent even had breakfast yet. No, he's dropping you off, and you're eating something now. Come on, into the kitchen, deary."

She nudged me off of the sofa, and directed me back into the kitchen, only to find both Chris and Jared running drills in the back, which wasn't exactly a garden, but more a stretch of land that was used by everyone in this little area, and was barren except for the even level of vibrantly coloured green grass, and the few wooden chairs, probably used for sunbathing when the weather allowed.

Speaking of the weather, it was fairly warm - far warmer than it had been earlier this morning, but not hot enough to be considered summertime, however both men had removed their shirts, and had a light sheen of sweat coating their chests and they pushed themselves further and faster up and down the vicinity. It was easily over 400 meters from the line of trees that I could see, to the back door of the cabin.

Iris seemed to overlook the half-nakedness of her pack members, and went about her duties in the kitchen, and gathered 3 pure white eggs, and cracked them in a light green, plastic bowl, removing the shells and beating them until their were a light orange mix of liquid, and pulled out a loaf of wholemeal bread, and pushed it under the grill, which doubled as an oven, apparently, but she didn't switch it on. She drew out a tin of beans, and, along with some butter, she emptied the contents into a metal pan, and chuckled as it sizzled from the hot temperature of the hob.

She turned back to me, and with a start, half-shouted out, "Oh damn.. I didn't even ask what you wanted. Deary, I'm such a bad hostess, is egg, beans and toast okay? I mean, it's not a banquet, and I could make some m-"

I smiled, brightly, and cut her off and said, "It's perfectly fine, Iris, thank you very much. Do you need any help?"

She seemed take aback by my offering my assistance, but shook her head nonetheless, and said, quietly, "You just sit back, and we'll have a little girl talk, okay?"

I nodded, grateful for the distraction, and asked, "If you don't mind me asking, how long have you been.. You know, a werewolf?"

She smiled, and wiped her dainty hands on a cloth near the sink, and replied, "Oh.. Well, Chris and I met almost 20 years ago, and I had been changed after our wedding, so, I'd say around 18 years?"

My mouth hung open, stupidly, and I couldn't help but breathe out, "Wow.. That's almost my entire life."

She smiled, and chuckled, "See now I feel old, you silly mare."

I smirked at her British accent as it slipped back into her tone, and I decided to ask her about her home town, as I hadn't been to England, no matter how much I would have liked to have travelled to Ireland, and met my father's side of the family. I knew that they didn't exactly like me, because of my mother, and her Japanese ancestry, but that didn't mean they'd shun me, right? I hadn't met anyone from either of my parent's families, and I hoped that soon, once I resolve y little _dilemma _here, I could go back to them, and everything would be okay.

"So you're British, right?"

She smiled, and stated, "Yes, milady. Born in London, but moved further South as I grew up."

She made a joke of it all by adding a small bow after the 'milady' and grinned at me, showing that she was, in fact, having a little bit of fun, trying to distract me from my earlier meltdown.

"Well, isn't this interesting? Okay, you're turn, you ask a question. We can go on like this all day, it might be a little fun, too."

She nodded, and twisted on her heels, to turn the beans, making sure they didn't stick to the bottom of the pan, and instead of switching on the toast, she sat opposite to me at the dinner table, and said, quietly, "Okay, deal. No lies, though, I'll be able to smell it," and at my nod in ascent, she continued, "Alright-y then. How long have you known about werewolves, deary?"

**Shit.**


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

"Ahh. Well.. How to explain," I pressed my lips in a firm line, and a crese appeared between my eyebrows, "I guess, about 5 years now? My boyf.. Ex-boyfriend, he was.. No, he is a werewolf," I winced as I spoke of Derek - a fact that did not go unnoticed by Iris, and continued, "We're not together anymore, but we had a little altercation - which is why your husband can smell an alpha werewolf on me now."

Shock crept into Iris' eyes, and she gasped, "You were mated to an alpha and he simply let you go?"

I shook my head, a nostalgic smile made its way to my face, and I replied, "No. He was a beta when I left, but I guess something changed."

She asked, curiously, "Still.. He was at your home a few days ago, and you are his mate, so why did he let you go without a fight?"

I chuckled, mirthlessly, "We're not mates anymore. He found someone else, apparently."

Suddenly exasperated, Iris huffed, "That's not possible, young lady. Once we mate, we mate for life. There is nobody else; even if our other half dies, we never find someone as perfect for us as them, ever again."

I shook my head, completely disbelieving, and responded, "No, the girl in the woods.. She told me. She said that they were together."

Of course, as motherly as she was, she was just trying to make me feel better.

Iris raised an inquisitive brow, and enquired, "Who is this woman, anyway? She seems to have caused you a lot of distress."

I nodded in agreement, and replied, "I don't know, she came out of nowhere while I was jogging and attacked me. I thought she was going to kill me at one point, and I wouldn't have been able to do anything to stop her."

She nodded, and carried on, "Because she was a werewolf and you're only human."

I scowled, a wicked glint appearing in my eyes, and I replied, "No. I might be human, but that's not a weakness, trust me. I don't look it, what with my blue hair and awful attitude, but I'm a hunter's child," Iris flinched at the term, and I heard growls erupt from the kitchen, so I hastily added, "I am no threat to you or your family - I was brought up being taught how to defend myself, and I've spent the last 3 years searching for the son of a bitch who killed my parents."

The intensity of the growl subsided, but both Jared and Chris decided it was too dangerous for their mate, and pack mother respectively, to spend time alone with a hunter's offspring. I glanced upwards at them both, and saw that there was a darkness etched into their gazes, and I had to snatch my eyes away before their hateful expressions was burned permanently into my memory.

I raised my hands, palms upward, an illustration of surrender, and I garbled out, "I'm not here to hurt anybody, please, you've been nothing but nice to me, you even clothed me," and I grappled with the oversized jumper I was currently adorning, and pleaded, "Please don't assume that because my parents were who they were, I am following in their footsteps, because I'm not. I have no intention of killing anyone - least of all any of you. I swear it."

Chris stepped forward and in return, I flinched minutely. His shadow casting a dark silhouette across my form, and I wanted nothing more than to take back everything that I had just said. Why do I always do this? Fuck everything up beyond recognition. I always end up regretting my words, and actions.

He crouched down low, and stared directly into my eyes, searching for something that I couldn't quite understand and eventually, smirked.

"I know. You couldn't hurt anyone even if you tried," and mussed my hair up lightly, then after a moment's time, continued, suddenly wistful, "I don't know what it is, but there's something about you.. Something strange. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's there. Deep in your eyes. It's all there, just waiting to be let out."

I blinked, sheepishly, and he chuckled in return. After standing, and brushing imaginary dirt from his trousers, he wrapped an arm around Iris' shoulders, and kissed her forehead, lovingly. Iris stared at me, an unreadable expression planted onto her face, and I found myself getting lost in her gaze, feeling an unpleasant sensation run through my veins.

After an awkward beat of silence, Jared made a sound in the back of his throat and laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, and said, conclusively, "So, I'm driving you back today?"

I looked up, and asked, "Can we stop off somewhere first?"

He nodded, jovially, and in a asinine tone, he enquired, "Where can I take you, ma'am?"

After a rather fleeting trip to the nearest pharmaceutical store, I - well, Jared - purchased two bottles of ash and chestnut brown dye, and, with the help of Iris, nearly two hours later, I was back to my somewhat natural hair colour. Somehow Iris had convinced me to allow her to straighten and curl the ends of my hair, and after she finished, even though it was out of my character, I had to admit, I was glad that she did. Due to the peroxide, my hair was now softer and easier to manipulate, plus the mint shampoo Iris used made my tresses smell heavenly.

After the clothes I was wearing yesterday were washed, dried, ironed and packed away in a spare plastic bag, Jared and I made our way in his plain black Mercedes back to Beacon Hills.

Back to the hellhole I had just crawled away from.

Back to the drama, the pain, the suffering that I was going to eventually have to dredge through. If he came back, I know full well that he wouldn't let me leave unless he tore away all of my walls, until I was bared out in front of him, ready for his inspection. And I wasn't prepared for that. Not at all.

Back to the nonsense, the jealousy, the pack.. His pack. They weren't mine. Nothing that was there held anything but toxic memories, poisoning my every thought, tainting my every breath. I hated that city. More than I hated anything else in my entire being. That city in sunny California brought forth the very best and worst times of my life.

And yet.. Here I was, driving straight back there, with a weighty knot tied in my stomach and my heart beating a mile a minute, with no indication of slowing any time soon.


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**Derek POV**

Waking up in the middle of the forest, naked and covered in dirt and other unmentionables was not the way I wanted to spend my Saturday morning, but alas, I that was how I found myself, and I was more than slightly pissed off that it turned out that way. I growled, and attempted to dust myself off, although the dirt covering me was practically super-glued onto my skin.

It took me little over 20 minutes for me to sniff my way through the foliage back to my own home that I found, thankfully, was empty, of which was a little strange, considering Isaac hadn't told me he was going anywhere, and Erica and Boyd should have been home from their 'date night' hours ago. I didn't understand why they partook in those inanely _human _festivities, however it kept them happy, so I let them do whatever they wanted.

As quickly as I was able, I showered and dressed in the nearest amalgamation of clean clothing I could lay my hands on; a pair of dark coloured jeans and a white tee, and was halfway out of the door, when Peter stepped out of the kitchen, a smirk planted on his face, which slowly bled away as he smelt, or didn't smell, Lily's scent on my body.

As a matter of fact, he sort of, whined in the back of his throat, as he realised that the more animalistic part of me was still present, and I felt a little bit of guilt flash through my system as I knew he realised I wasn't entirely myself. He took a tentative step towards me, and he asked, "A-Are you okay, Derek?"

It was like all of the tension in my body suddenly multiplied, and I knew I needed to talk to someone, and soon, otherwise I would have lost myself completely. I glanced at him, with a detached look in my eyes, and I replied, "No.. Peter, I'm really not okay."

He nodded, and instantly was standing with his arms around my shoulders, hugging me to himself, in probably the most abject display of our familial relationship. He began, quickly, "I know what it's like. When I lost Pru in that fire.. It was the worst time of my life," his voice began shaking as he mentioned his ex-wife's name, and continued, "I know what you're going through, kiddo. It doesn't have to be that way. Just talk to her. At least you can. Make the most of the time you have with her, because you never know when it's going to be over."

I could barely find the words to speak, let alone actually console him in anyway. I remember hearing her screams from outside of the blaze; my parents, my little brother, my cousins, my aunts and uncle - I couldn't imagine what it would have been like to have to listen to Lily die. It made my stomach clench tightly, and my heart seemed to beat out of sync, and I felt bile rise in my throat, and my newly awoken, hyperaware wolf swatted away the thought in pure anger.

I blinked away the tears that collected into my eyes, and averted my gaze towards the nearest open window, instead of at my uncle's pleading face. I whimpered, "I can't.. I don't know how to. Every time I think about her, about us, it hurts. It burns everything inside of me to know that she was fine without me."

Peter scoffed, lightly, and replied, comfortingly, "She wasn't fine, Derek. Trust me. She was hurting just as badly as you were."

I rolled my eyes, and my jaw tensed of its own volition. I bit out, "And how exactly do you know that?"

He tapped his nose, and said, airily, "I just know, kiddo. Go talk to her. You wont regret it," with a smug smirk on his face.

I shrugged, and eventually conceded, and nodded in agreement. I needed to talk to her, and soon.

Because my car was more or less demolished, I had to walk to Lily's house, and I was more than a little surprised that it was empty. Everything in her house was quiet and all of the lights were off. Her scent was dulled, meaning she had to have been gone for hours, yet it was only midday.

I growled, deep in my chest, annoyed at the universe and how she just liked to royally fuck me over at every turn. When I wanted to talk to her, she was missing, and when I didn't, she was always there. Why couldn't it just go my fucking way.

On my way back to my house, I punched a tree trunk, feeling nothing but the numb ache vibrate through my fist, and watched as splinters of wood from the trunk splayed around the base.

"For fuck's sake!"

My voice ricocheted through the woods, and as the course of the wind changed, I caught a scent. One scent that I would have been able to go the rest of my life without smelling. A scent that dredged up every bad memory, and manipulated my mind into thinking up all of the worst scenarios and forced them to the forefront of my mind.

The scent of my mate's spilt blood.

Not enough to be considered fatal, but more than the usual paper cut, and instinct began running through my system. It had me running in that direction at a breakneck speed.

_Find her. Make sure she's safe._

That voice in the back of my head, tunnelling me forward through the brush. My claws had sheathed as soon as I could smell her blood become more potent, and my eyes probably had reverted to their natural, livid scarlet colour.

_What if she's hurt?_

No. She's fine. She has to be. She's a fighter. She'll get through this. I know her, she's okay. She's fine. She has to be.

_What if she's dead?_

I could see clearly, but I wasn't able to focus on anything, my thoughts spiralling into darker, more volatile scenarios with each passing moment, and when I finally broke the clearing, my chest was heaving and sweat was literally dripping from my forehead.

I snapped my eyes to take in every spec, every molecule that was floating through the afternoon air, and searched for even the smallest drop of blood. I felt my heart plummet into my stomach as I saw evidence of a clear struggle, and a patch of dried blood, staining the earth beneath it.

Her blood.

Lily's blood.

I drew in a deep breath, and noted that there was a faint scent in the atmosphere that I recognised but couldn't quite put my finger on. I attempted to followed Lily's scent, but to my annoyance, the sudden change in wind velocity meant that the scent that I had caught beforehand had washed away. I wouldn't be able to follow the scent, without driving myself insane. I could do nothing but wait and see if she was okay.

And that thought alone was enough to make my stomach clench beneath the somewhat damp tee I had on.

I made my way back to her home, and instead of waiting outside like a stalker of some kind, and drawing unwanted attention to myself, I broke into through her back window, and made my way into her living room, falling into her comfortable sofa, and inhaled deeply. I could have gone to her bedroom, however that was an inane breach of privacy, and her lavender scent calmed the beast inside of me, almost immediately.

There was nothing more than I wanted to do that actually take her in my arms and hold her tightly to my body, and tell her everything would be okay.

I _needed_ for her to be okay.


	36. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Lily POV

It took us longer than it probably should have to get back to Beacon Hills, but Jared and I had gotten something to eat, which turned out to be a bit of a Q&A about our life stories. I learnt that he was 27 years old, a lot older than I had thought he was initially, and he was gay. He didn't have a mate, per se, but there was someone he had had his eyes on for a while now, and I wished him luck. By the time we left the eatery, it had to have been a little after 6 in the evening, and we arrived back in my hometown for just before half 7.

Neither of us were especially hungry especially considering we had eaten not two hours ago, however, me being the hospitable host I am, offered to serve him a drink before he went back home.

He helped me out of the car, and gave him a small smile in thanks. I glanced up on my driveway, and saw my bike winking back at me, under the coat of darkness. Silently, I thanked whomsoever was gracious enough to return my baby to me.

"So, this is you then?," Jared asked, a smirk gracing his features, which, might I say, were beyond gorgeous. His eyes were slate grey and shone with intelligence and a slight childishness that I couldn't help but find endearing, and instead of ginger locks adorning his head, like his older sister, he had light brown tresses, which looked unimaginably soft and well-groomed. His skin looked soft and like fresh alabaster, and made his aura seem to glow in the daylight. I was surprised he didn't explode or just shrivel up in from intense heat rays radiating from the sun.

"Yeah, this is me. It's not exactly Buckingham Palace, but it's home."

He chuckled under his breath, then suddenly froze, as if someone had injected nitrogen into his veins. He grabbed me from around my waist, and more or less hauled me back towards his car, however he was interrupted when a furious Derek threw my front door open, splintering the door in the centre from the force.

I screamed, terrified at what was about to unfold, "Derek, what are you doing?!"

He completely ignored me, and went straight for Jared, growling and snapping at his throat like a rabid animal. Jared was doing his best to avoid those fatal teeth, as well as trying to protect me, by pushing me behind his back, and manoeuvre himself around my body, without actually hurting me. I tried to get a word in, but neither of them were even listening to me. It was like I wasn't there. I yelled, frightened, "Derek, fucking stop it!"

With a burst of strength that was not my own, I forced myself around Jared, and threw myself between both of the warring fighters. I raised my hands up, and pressed my hands into Derek's chest, digging my nails in sharply, and shouted, "Stop fighting now! People can see you! Stop! Please!"

His furious gaze dropped down to mine for a moment, and he replied, just as angrily, "Why are you defending him?!"

My eyes widened, and I could barely speak; there was so much venom in his voice, it was like a slap straight to my face. He face contorted in an even deeper pit of fury as he spat, "I've been waiting here for hours, just to see if you were okay, and you turn up with this jerk-off?!"

My eyebrows drew together, and, I asked, suddenly tired, "What is your problem, Derek? He's just a friend!"

He scoffed, and seethed, "Of course, a 'friend'. Do I look like an idiot?!"

I huffed, and I felt Jared shuffled behind me, uncomfortably. I turned around, and saw that Jared had backed away, further than he had beforehand, and I stared at him, confused. He wouldn't meet my eyes, no matter how much I tried, and when Derek growled, Jared whined, in his chest. Without turning back to the Alpha, I beseeched, "What did you do to him?"

He chuckled, darkly, and responded, "Nothing. He's reacting to my natural dominance, that's all. Werewolf thing."

I rolled my eyes, completely cantankerous that he was upsetting my guest, and I walked over to Jared. Or at least I would have, if Derek hadn't grasped my arm in some kind of Alpha-wrist deadlock, and hauled me in the opposite direction, back towards my home.

I slapped his hands, trying to pull away from him, and all that seemed to prove was that he could hold me that much harder.

"Get off of me Derek!"

He scoffed, once more, and muttered something under his breath. He wasn't let go anytime soon, I knew that know, and I knew that Derek wouldn't be cordial with Jared at all, I shouted, "Jared, I'm so sorry, please, I'll be okay. Come down anytime, okay?" and at his rather subdued nod, I continued, "Tell Iris and Chris I said thanks!"

I just about got the words out of my mouth before Derek slammed the door behind him, and halfway threw me, unsteadily, into my living room.

A snarl marred my features, and I growled out, "How dare you, Derek?!"

As I turned to face him, I realised we were far closer than I had thought, and his face was a hair's breadth away from my own. Shock coloured his emerald orbs, just as an equal amount of rage, and he howled, "How dare I? _How dare I?! _Are you being fucking serious right now?!"

I rolled my eyes, and crossed my arms over my heaving chest; a stance reflected in Derek too. My silence was more than enough of an answer for him, and he seemed to take that worse than anything else I had said, and exploded in a sudden flush of aggression. He grasped my upper arms, and shook me, lightly, obviously as to not hurt me, but enough to make me aware that he was being serious.

"I don't care if you're friends with him, or any other guy around town, I don't like it. I'll never like it," he took a calming breath, but that did nothing to stall him, "You might not be mine anymore, but.. But that doesn't mean you can just do this."

His voice broke at the end of his heartfelt statement, then he let go of my shoulders in defeat, and I couldn't do anything but blink, in surprise.

"But.. But you're with someone. That's not fair, Derek, don't do this."

Now it was his turn to look confused, as he asked, "What are you talking about, Lily?"

I shivered at the use of my nickname - one he coined after first meeting my mother almost four years ago, and I had to shake my head to expel the thoughts that crept into my mind.

"You're with someone. She.." I didn't want to make it awkward between his new girlfriend and himself, so I tried to find an appropriate word to use, and I continued, cautiously, "She approached me yesterday, and told me that you and her were mated and-"

He interrupted me with an volatile snarl, that vibrated the windows and frightened me halfway into next year. He took another step towards me, "Who fed you that absolute bullshit?!"

Grooves formed between my brows, and I stuttered, "I've never met her before. She just came out of nowhere in the fore-"

"The forest? Did she hurt you?"

Now he was on the attack. A snarl marred his expression, and I found that it didn't quite frighten me, as it made me uncomfortable to see. He looked more animalistic in that moment than he had ever when he was with me, and I didn't like him being so angry all the time. He wasn't this conflicted three years ago. What could possibly have happened?

I didn't want to lie to him, but I knew that it would do nothing to help me in the long run.

"I don't.. I cant say."

He grasped my upper arm once more, this time softer than before, and pleaded, "Did she hurt you?"

I averted my eyes from his intense gaze, and he took that as answer enough. He raged, "I'm going to find that bitch, and I swear, I will tear her apart with my own hands."

He released my shoulders, and I missed the contact immediately. I rolled my shoulders, trying to rid myself of the sensation tingling in the muscles in my arms.

"I should go. I'm.. I'm sorry about that before, with, what's his name? Jared? I shouldn't have done that. It wasn't fair. You're single. I'm single," and it was like he had to force the next few words from his lips, "You have the right to do whatever you want."

His hands tightened into fists, and the room seemed to be rendered still with silence. I tried to quell the awkwardness that settled onto the room, and I took in a deep, calming breath, before I uttered the words that I knew would change the concept of 'us'.

I played with my clammy hands, and asked, tentatively, "You don't have to go, Derek. Do you want a cup of coffee?"

The blinding smile that I received from him made everything seem so much better.

_Sorry guys, I uploaded Chapter 34 again._


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Stiles POV

A heavy weight draped over my mid-section was what I woke up to the morning after Isaac had come over last night. Soon after we both had finished fooling around, we fell asleep, pretty much immediately. He cuddled me closer to his body as soon as he found that I was awake, and kissed my shoulder. I grinned into the crook of my elbow, and I said, airily, "Morning, Isaac."

He smiled down at me, suddenly looming over me, and replied, "Good morning, baby. How'd you sleep?"

I turned myself around, so that I was now facing him, and replied, "Brilliantly," and I glanced upwards, through my lashes, and added, "Thank you, for last night."

He chuckled, and winked, rather vivaciously, and sat up, taking half of the covers with him.

He glanced behind at me, and I felt more exposed than I had last night, "Your shower is down the hall, right?"

I nodded, and he finished, "Do you mind if I jump in?"

I blushed at the thought, and replied, "Yeah. Go ahead."

He rolled his eyes and chuckled, cheekily, and professed, "You wanna join me?" and raised his left eyebrow.

My face slackened, and I did nothing but gape at him for a few moments, not knowing at all what to say. He smiled, in that way only Isaac could, and raised his hand out towards me, and without a moment's hesitation, I held his in my own, and let him drag me to the bathroom.

Let's just say we stayed in their long after the water had run cold.

"Isaac, I think we need to talk."

After we had, _finally_, gotten out of the bathroom, and after some more fooling around, we got dressed, it was only 10 in the morning, so I decided that I should make late breakfast. I was in the kitchen, finishing up the toast that was under the grill, and began plating up the bacon and scrambled eggs that I had made earlier, and decided that now, more than ever, was a good time to get Isaac to talk about what was going on between us.

I mean, they do say the best way to get to a man's heart is through his stomach, right?

"What do you mean, Stiles?"

His tone was careful, and far too collected, however I heard something underneath the film of calm he was trying to portray. I began buttering the toast, and cutting them into halves, then placed them onto the colourful plates that we were eating off of.

I scratched the back of my head, and smiled, practically radiating ambiguity, "I just want to clarify what we are."

Isaac smirked as he looked down at the plate in front of him, and began eating straight off the bat. I laughed at how animatedly he was guzzling the food down, and I asked, "Are werewolves always hungry or something?"

He nodded, without really looking up at me, yet he didn't stop eating. Instead of focussing on him, and all of his perfection, I had to play with my hands to keep myself occupied. I coughed, and asked, somewhat awkwardly, "Okay, look, I just want to know how you feel, because I just don't know."

That stopped him in his tracks, alright.

He glanced up at me, and a small smile made its way up onto his face, and said, wistfully, "How do you _not _know, Stiles?"

I cocked my head to the side, and asked, "What do you mean?"

He laughed, and set down his fork, completely spent for some reason. He replied, "This is why it had to be you, didn't it?"

I screwed my face up a little, and he added, "You know how werewolf mating works, right? Like, Scott and Allison, and Erica with Boyd?"

I nodded, following to the best of my ability, and he finished, "Well that's what's going on between us now. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

My eyes widened of their own accord, and a cleft appeared between my brows. I glanced out of the nearest window, and I scratched at the nape of my neck once more. I looked at him, briefly, and saw that his gaze was burning with intensity, and I had to look away once more. I couldn't believe what he was saying to me right now. I took in a deep breath, then asked, "Isaac, I.. Why me?"

He sent me a confused stare, and asked, "What do you mean?"

I shrugged, rather noncommittally, although I was feeling nothing but unease inside, and replied, "I mean look at me! I'm skinny, short and pale as a sheet of paper. Why would you pick me, out of everyone in the entire world, why me? I don't understand. I.. I just don't get it. That's all."

As I had been speaking, it was like every word I said had drawn something from deep inside of him, and wrenched it to the surface, and as I glanced back up at him, I saw that his eyes had bled golden, showing his true nature. There was anger, and dare I say it, disbelief in his gaze, and I didn't know exactly what to say to placate him in any way.

"Is that really how you see yourself? Honestly, what am I going to do with you, Stiles?"

He stepped around the table, his breakfast long forgotten, and my own barely touched, and he kneeled between my legs and held my hands in his own. In this position, it could be seen almost like a proposal of some kind, and he stared into my eyes, with as much passion as a freshly lit candle.

He began, "You're perfect for me. I wouldn't change a thing about you, I couldn't imagine it. Your eyes, your smile, why would I leave when everything I need is right here?" he ran a hand through my hair, and I leaned into his touch, without thinking, "I don't care if you think you're too skinny, you're beautiful to me. Nothing anybody can say will change my mind about you. It's not just my wolf that craves you, it's me." and after kissing each of my knuckles softly, he finished, "I've wanted you for so long, it burns me inside to have you so close, yet so far."

I looked down at him, and my legs began to twitch, involuntarily. He looked down at them, and I grinned, sheepishly, "I can't help it. They've got a mind of their own."

He nodded, and leaned in, slowly. I tilted my head to the side, and allowed his lips to touch my own, and instead of keeping the kiss strictly PG, I wound my hands that had been held by Isaac, into his hair, and pulled his body flush to my own. He enveloped me in his arms and pulled me out of my seat, so that my legs were wound around his waist.

In between kisses, I asked, "Wanna. Go. Upstairs?"

Instead of responding, Isaac nodded, and set me down on the floor, and as I turned to walk upstairs, he slapped me on the butt. Of which, I sent him a playful glare, and he said, "Go upstairs, wait for me."

I nodded, and ran up the stairs, while I heard him push the dishes into the microwave, ready for us to eat later if we got hungry - _if we ever made it back downstairs -_and for a moment, I wondered idly where my dad was. Then again, he probably went back to the station this morning. Then again, that meant he walked in on Isaac and I sleeping together.

**Shit.**

I didn't realise that I had been pacing until Isaac had wrapped his arms around my shoulders, shaking me halfway out of my skin, and kissed my temple, lovingly.

"Did my dad come in last night?"

Isaac chuckled, and replied, "Yeah. He did, but I heard him wake up and stuff, so I hid in your cupboard. He checked you were asleep, then left for work around 7?"

I smiled, thankful that he was smart enough to hide, and I turned around and kissed him on his lips, savouring the taste of him. It was like summer and snow mixed in a delicious cocktail of pure Isaac, and I could barely get enough of him.

"So.. What do you want to do?"

That one question, filled with so many innuendo's, I could barely keep them from tumbling out. I shrugged, and suggested, "Shall we get to know each other better? Beyond the fact that you're a werewolf, I don't know much about you."

He nodded, and directed me to my bed. We both sat leaning against the headboard, with one of his arms wrapped around my shoulders and the other laying in my lap, entwined with my own fingers.

He kissed my forehead, and asked, rather cheerily, considering this topic could get pretty fucking deep, and asked, "So, what do you want to know, baby?"


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Isaac POV

Having Stiles wrapped around my body in such an innocently erotic way sent shivers shooting up and down my spine, in intense bursts, and I could barely restrain myself from holding him down and fucking his deliciously pale ass into the bed sheets below us. It took everything inside of me _not _to make the first move, simply because I knew that we needed to talk. He needed to know things about me and I, in turn, yearned to know more about him. Thinking about it, I really didn't know much about my - _Could I really say boyfriend?_ - mate, and he didn't know _anything_ about me.

Who exactly was Stiles?

He asked, clearly nervous, with a light flush to his neck, and a curious gleam in those Goddamn beautiful hazel eyes, "Have you lived in Beacon Hills your whole life?"

I chuckled at the simplicity of the question, and I replied, "No. I lived in LA when my mom was alive, then moved here when I was 14 with my dad. And you know how that ended."

He nodded, solemnly, and kissed my cheek, in some kind of show of sympathy. I sniffed, indifferently, and lamented, "It's okay, I got over it. He was a bastard, but he didn't deserve to die like that," then shaking off the ache in my gut, I continued, "Okay, my turn. What do you like to do in your spare time?"

He smirked to himself, and replied, "Nothing really. Lacrosse, werewolf shit. I like comics, and I watch action movies a lot. I don't do much else. What about you? What do you like doing?"

I grinned at how utterly cliché Stiles was. It's refreshing to meet someone so naïve, and so unselfish. He'd prefer to watch TV all day, rather than go out to fancy restaurants and be showered with expensive gifts. There is nothing else that I would prefer to do than spend my time with him. As my boyfriend, with our pack. It would be perfect. Jesus Christ, I can't wait to just be able to hold him, whenever I liked. To feel his skin on my own, and his eyes trained only on me. All of his focus on my form, as I defended him and whatever family we had of our own. When we would make love, it wouldn't be forced, or awkward, or even disjointed. We would just flow together, like we were meant to.

I smiled, blushing slightly around the collar, and said, "I like being with my family - my new family. It's nice. I like reading. I know, pretty boring shit, huh? I don't do much more than you. Lacrosse, werewolf shit. Beyond that, nothing spectacular."

He sniggered, disbelievingly, and stated, "Okay, your turn."

I knew that this next question would get a little awkward, somehow, and I didn't want to come across as overtly interested, however I couldn't help that I was. I mean, he's my mate. Why wouldn't I be interested in his previous sex life? If the answer was something I didn't like, I would be upset, but I'd have to get over it because he's just too important to me to lose over something that, in relation to everything else that our relationship could be.

I huffed, and trailed my fingers up the length of his spine, trying to be comforting, however his eyes fluttered closed, and I could smell the arousal permeate the air around us, as I asked, "Alright. Well, seeing as how we," I paused, looking for the right word, "fooled around last night, we might as well get our sex lives out there, so, how many people have you slept with?"

He tensed immediately after I mentioned 'sex' and I couldn't help but bare my teeth at that. Honestly, part of me was interested, but the greater selection of my being was frothing at the mouth at the thought of him touching anyone else, let alone actually being touched himself. His pulse skyrocketed, and he replied, hastily, "I.. There's no sex life to speak of."

Excuse me? Did I just hear correctly?

My expression remained neutral, however I raised my eyebrow at him, hardly believing what he was saying, and looked deeply into his eyes, and asked, "Nobody?"

He shook his head, and I couldn't help the grin that bloomed across my face. The shock I was obviously experiencing showed on my face, and he blushed brightly under my intense inspection. I monitored the surge in his pulse, and the speed of his heart beating wildly in his pale chest, of which I wanted oh-so much to taste for the rest of my life. I couldn't help but ask, quietly, trying to reassure myself, "So you've really never been with anyone, ever?"

He blushed deeper, and, out of pure mortification, he halfway shouted, "No! There's been nobody, ever! Now can we talk about something else please?"

I held him tighter to my body, and I tucked my face into his shoulder, taking in all that was Stiles, and half-mumbled, "I know you're embarrassed, but don't be. I'm glad that you haven't been with anyone else, I don't know what I'd do if you had been."

Eventually, he nodded his head, timidly, and asked, "And you? How many people have you been with?"

I tensed a little, hoping that he would take this better than I would have, had he told me this.

"I've been with six different people," and he froze immediately after, and began pulling away slightly. I dragged him closer to myself, and kissed his neck, trying to calm his racing pulse, and added, "Hey, don't pull away," I pleaded, "You don't know them. Don't worry about them, they meant nothing," and at his blank stare, I emphasised, "I mean it, stop looking at me like that."

Stiles rolled his eyes, and averted his gaze from my own, seemingly unable to even look at me, let alone actually talk to me, and that made me growl, a little louder than usual, inadvertently spiking his heart rate. As soon as he let out a small gasp of surprise, I began crooning him, hoping that I wasn't making things worse. I mumbled, "I'm sorry, baby, don't be mad."

I rolled over, so that I was on all fours, and he was almost pinned beneath my body. I didn't wait for him to give me permission to kiss him, and swooped down to capture his lips with my own. He whined a little, and I smirked against his mouth. He curled his body to fit mine, and relaxed so that his head was cradled in the pillows we had been lying on before. The room began to heat up, or so I thought, as our make-out session began getting more aggressive.

"I don't want anyone else touching you, Isaac," and he bit on my bottom lip hard enough to make me wince in pleasure, "I mean it. No more."

I nodded, completely smitten with the boy beneath me, and I ran my fingers along his midsection. He shivered, and I chuckled, then replied, "There's no one else, baby. I promise."

And boy, did I mean it.

**Sorry.. I'm an asshole for making you guys wait so long, but I've been out of my house for the last few days - I've not been myself, really, so a change of scenery was great for me.**


	39. Chapter 39

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Ple****ase, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**Isaac POV**

That seemed to spark something inside of Stiles, and he wrapped his thin legs around my waist, and ground himself onto me. Sparks exploded behind my eyelids, and I hid my face in the crook of his shoulder, so that he wouldn't see the peaking of canines over my lips, or the change in colour of my eyes. He carried on grinding into my abdomen, the thin sheet of calm and control that I was trying to restrain was quickly burning away, and my carnal desires raging beneath, begging to be released.

I could feel his erection growing and twitching in his pants, and I knew it must have been uncomfortable for him to be rubbing through the fabric, so I unzipped his jeans, and at his breathy moan of 'fuck yes', I tugged them down to his ankles. He kicked them off, and they fell to the floor, forgotten.

I pressed my weight onto Stiles, to stop him from moving too wildly, and dipped my fingers into the sides of his brief-boxers.

I licked slow circles on the expanse of exposed skin on his pale neck, and whispered, "Do you want to cum, Stiles?"

My voice showcased a calm that I did not truly feel, and he shivered and writhed beneath me, and whined, "Isaac.. Please, I-I want.. I need to.. Fuck!"

I smirked up at him, and saw something that I never would forget as long as I lived. Stiles, pink-faced, eyes screwed shut and my name, being panted from his lips. I felt my own cock react to the sight, and I had to manoeuvre my erection inside my jeans, just to dampen the pressure, weighing down on my groin.

I kissed up and down his inner thighs, listening to his screams of pleasure and anxiousness, and whispered, against his skin, "It's okay, baby, I'll take care of you."

The pre-cum that had collected at the tip of Stiles' cock soaked the material of his boxers, and I couldn't stop myself from lapping, lightly, at the tip. The shrill screams I received in return informed me that I was going in the right direction - so I continued.

I tugged his boxers down, like I had done his jeans beforehand, and took the time to marvel at the perfection that was Stiles. He wasn't as long or as thick as I was, but he was far from small. I lay pepper-kisses along the vein on the underside of his cock, and swirled my tongue around the head of his penis.

His back arched off of the bed, and he screamed out into the silence of his bedroom air. I was glad that his father was at work, because the noises he was making were far from human.

"ISAAC, I CANT.. FUCK, PLEASE!"

I grinned, and took him completely in my mouth, all the way to the base, and felt it touch the back of my throat. I felt him wind his fingers in my hair, and I glanced upwards, and, unknowingly, locked eyes with my new lover. I was glad that I was lying down, because the look in his eye could have easily floored me. His eyes were flooded with tears, and his lips were bruised and plump from all of the biting he had been doing.

His voice was low and it broke slightly as he whispered, "Isaac.. I'm _so_ close, please, I can't take it.. I can't."

My head began bobbing at lightening speed, drawing groans and cries from him, and I was surprised he wasn't coughing up blood from his animated screams. It was only when I hummed low in my throat that he came, tearing at my strands of hair, and literally, howling as he did so. I swallowed most of the salty liquid that filled my mouth, some of it escaping and dripping down my chin, of which I wiped off with the back of my hand, as I sat up, and stared at the love of my life.

It took him a few moments to collect himself before he was able to speak correctly, and even then, it was unsteady and his breathing was erratic as he gasped, "That.. Was.. Perfect."

I simply smiled, as I had nothing more to say about it. I lay down next to him, and, after he pulled his underwear back on, I wrapped my arms around his waist, as he curled into my body, yet tensed a few moments after getting into position.

"You're still hard.."

He left the statement open at the end, leaving it up to me as to what we should do after. I shrugged, and cuddled him closer to me, and said, "I'm fine, baby. Don't worry about me."

He nudged me slightly with his shoulder, and I leaned over him a little. I raised my eyebrow, and he twisted around, so he was facing me instead. He reached up and kissed me, sweetly, on the lips, then he began his sensual assault on my jaw line, then eventually my neck. He manoeuvred us so that he was sitting on my abdomen, and I was lying beneath him, completely at his mercy.

He tugged at my shirt, and I pulled it off, immediately after he indicated at it. He marvelled a second as he stared at my chest, and I smirked, glad that he was appreciating what I had to offer. He trailed his fingertips across the length of my torso, moving along the tattoo I had recently gotten on my chest, biting his lip at the sultry ink on my torso, unconsciously rolling his hips, then, along each of my abs, then licked and bit along my collarbones.

He blinked, adorably, then admitted, his cheeks a bright red in colour, "I've never done something like this before, so, I'm kind of worried that I'm doing something wrong."

I rubbed along his arms, reassuringly, and said, "You're doing perfectly. You don't have to go any further than this, baby, it's okay."

He shook his head, dismissingly, and said, "No, I want to."

I felt a shiver run through my spine at his sultry, throaty tone of voice, and I tensed, subconsciously, unsure of what he was thinking of doing. It was only when he grasped my impressive length in his hand, and began pumping, ever so slowly, that I began feeling the real intense raps of pleasure as they spiked along my synapses. I bit my bottom lip, in an attempt to keep my groans silent, and one look at Stiles told me he was more than enjoying having me in the palm of his hands.. Pun intended.

He licked along my Adam's apple, and left sloppy, wet kissed along my collarbones, nipping slightly at the skin there, blemishing it for all those who would see it. I caressed his sides, and flittered across his ass, smirking slightly. He sighed, happily, and his hand tightened slightly, and although his fingers couldn't quite wrap completely around the girth, he made up for it with vigour.

"Am I doing okay?"

His voice was quiet, and somewhat anxious, and I kissed his lips, trying to quell his nerves.

"You're doing fine."

He nodded, and said, "I'm going to try something, okay, tell me if it's good."

I nodded, robotically, as I couldn't quite believe it as I saw Stiles kiss and nibble lower and lower, flittering across my nipples, idly, and licking along my abdomen. He nudged my thighs apart, slightly, and I couldn't hold back the sigh of pure relief as he swirled his tongue around the head of my cock, collecting my precum on his tongue, and leering, devilishly as he did so.

I moaned, "Fuck.. Stiles."

He glanced upwards, and stared directly in my eyes, looking equal parts innocent and seductive all at once. I rolled my hips, without realising, and Stiles froze for a moment.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

Excitedly, I ran a hand through his hair, and he went back to sucking me off. He was doing much better than someone who seemed to have been doing it for their first time; swirling and curling his tongue in just the right places, that made quivers run through my body, unrelenting and merciless. Pressure built and built on top of itself, doubling and trebling in intensity, and I could barely see straight. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, and my back arched slightly off of the bed. I ran my hands through his locks, and I moaned, "Just like that Stiles.. You're doing great, baby."

He copied my earlier actions earlier, and hummed, low in his throat, and I was done. A surge of excitement pulsated through my body, and broke through all of my wards and walls, and before I was even able to warn him, I climaxed harder than I ever had before. It caught me completely off-guard, and I hollered, loudly, "Fucking hell!"

Shaking, I shot my load directly down his throat, and without a seconds hesitation, he swallowed every drop of my cum, like the good little submissive he was, and eventually, sat up on my thighs, watching me get my bearings. Subconsciously, he rubbed at his jaw, wincing slightly at whatever aches ailed him and I felt a twinge of regret bubble in my stomach, however, as he curled into my side, and wrapped his arms around my waist, I dismissed the thought, quickly. I shuffled and pulled him closer to my side, then asked, "You okay, baby?"

He nodded, instead of speaking, and a cleft appeared between my eyes.

Nervously, I enquired, "Did I do something to upset you, Stiles?"

Concern nestled deeply in my stomach, and I felt panic set in. Have I done something wrong already? He shook his head, and sat up, slightly. He sighed a little, and winced, "My jaw hurts, that's all, baby."

My body tensed at the pet name, and I felt my inner-wolf howled, contentedly. I pulled the duvet around my abdomen, and subsequently, around Stiles' shoulders, as he was lying on my pectorals, with his pale arms around my middle, contrasting with my somewhat tanned skin. I kissed his forehead once more, and he twisted and turned, trying to get comfortable, and instead of letting him continue, I collected him in my arms; I wrapped his legs around my waist, and his head tucked charmingly into my shoulder blade.

His voice was muffled as he said, "Thanks."

He yawned, and, instinctively, I began rubbing circles on the skin of his lower back. Before I realised it, Stiles had fallen asleep, purring lowly, blowing small puffs of cool air against my collar, and, as soon as my wolf became at ease with the rather unfamiliar surroundings, I fell asleep, shortly after.


	40. Chapter 40

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

"Thanks, you didn't have to do that," Derek stated as I handed him the warm cup of coffee; one sugar, no milk, the way he had always liked it. I fingered the mug of cool orange juice in my hands, and I could barely meet his eyes. Since when was I so fucking nervous? Come on! This guy and I have been through hell together, I can talk to him now.

I mumbled, "It's fine, don't worry about it."

Shrugging slightly, he sipped his drink slowly; the atmosphere around us going icy with anticipation and anxiousness.

"So.."

"So.."

We both started at the same time, and our eyes locked for only a moment before I tore my gaze away, and blushed an ever so deep red, and tried to hide my face with a curtain of my newly dyed hair. Derek mumbled, fairly indifferently, "Your hair looks good brown."

I glanced up at him, and saw that his cheeks were equally as pink as my own, and that was all it took. All of the anger and the fear of being rejected by him and his pack dissipated in that moment, and there was nothing left but the feelings I had felt for this man three years ago.

On my end, at least.

I had to know if he felt the same way before I could even think about going there again. I had to force my urges away back into the deepest recesses of my heart, and I felt my guard rise up around my being. To keep myself on my offence, I shrugged, thankful yet in a slightly aloof way, and replied, "Thanks.."

He nodded, in that cute, awkward way that only he could, and glanced out of the front window. Something caught his attention, and an embarrassed expression overtook his features.

"Sorry.. About your door. I'll fix it, don't worry," and he tilted his head in that direction, and I found that there was a colossal crack down the centre, some of the splinters having fallen ungracefully all over the floor, and I couldn't help but laugh, lightly, and he gave me a strange stare.

I heaved, silently, and I said, in a very forthright manner, "Sorry, I just don't know how we got here. Broken doors, awkward conversations. What happened?"

He paused for a moment, and a sad look drew over his face, and said, quietly, "You left. That's what happened."

Inelegantly, I scuffed my sock clad feet on the laminated floor of the living room carpet, and whispered, just about loud enough for him to hear, "I am sorry, Der."

He flinched, and said, immediately, "Don't call me that.. Please? It hurts."

I winced at the forlornness in his tone, and I replied, "You think it doesn't hurt every time I look at your face, and I know what I missed out on?"

He whined, and I continued, "All of the time I wasted, on my own, and you were here."

He growled loudly, and said, "I'm on my own here, Lilac! What am I supposed to do? I have a pack now, you were supposed to be with me.. What happened? What did I do wrong?!"

He never used my full name, not even when we used to argue, so I knew something was wrong. Confusedly, I asked, "Alone? What about Laura?"

He winced, sharper than before, and his mouth drew in a hard line. I stood, shakily, and he wouldn't meet my eyes. Quietly, I reiterated, "Derek.. Where's Laura?"

He stared out of the window, angrily, and his bottom lip trembling in a way that I more than recognised. He did this before he cried, and I just couldn't stand to see him so broken, and upset.

You know what?

Damn the consequences.

I closed the gap between us, and even though he could have easily stopped me before I had even got within a foot of him, he let me collect his shoulders in my arms, I asked, "Where is she, Derek? Tell me what happened."

Warily, he glanced up at my face, and the sadness in his eyes melted my every inhibition. His voice was thick with unshed tears, and his eyes equally as watery.

"She's dead. They're all dead, and it's my fault, Lily," he hiccupped slightly, and I pulled him close to my body. I tucked my face deeply in his broad shoulder, and he wrapped his familiar hands around my waist, and using his unyielding strength, he tugged me onto his lap, and I could do nothing but sit down and get comfortable. He inhaled deeply, and I jumped at the ticking sensation that ran through my body at the feeling.

This was always a conversation that we had had when we were together. Derek's obvious regret and guilt over the death of his parents at the hands of his ex-girlfriend, Kate. I still don't know what happened to her, but whatever it was, I hoped she was, wherever in the world, burning under the hateful power of the glistening sun, her skin bubbling from the pure pressure. She was, in my opinion, the reason why Hell existed. People like her, sick motherfuckers like her, are the reason why we have a Hell.

I ran my hand through his hair, trying to calm himself, as well as myself, and I noticed that it was just as soft and smooth as before, just a little longer than I remembered, and I smiled, briefly, as I comforted, "It's not your fault, how could it be, Der?"

His breathing hitched a little, and he glanced at me, tears streaked his cheeks, and his bottom lip red from the abuse it suffered. He grimaced deeply, and whimpered, "It is.. I might as well have torn her throat out."

I felt my body tense up without my permission, and he sighed, deeply. I didn't know what to say, but instead of letting that get to me, I left it all to my instincts. My voice was surprisingly calm as I said, "It's okay, take your time. Just explain what you mean, I'm here for you."

And I knew that was the whole truth.

**Hey, I know it's really difficult to understand, and the chapters are a little choppy, but its okay. I hope you like it, guys! I love you all!**


	41. Chapter 41

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**Lily POV**

"How could it have been your fault, Derek?," I asked, quietly.

He tightened his grip of my waist, and nuzzled his face further into my shoulder. He mumbled, softly, "It's my fault. I didn't look after her. She was my only family, and I left her alone. I didn't.. I couldn't.."

He broke off and I felt wetness brush against my shoulder, where his face was. He was crying. This was a side of him that nobody else had ever seen of him, but me, and that thought made strangely happy. I ran my fingers through his hair, and he sighed, deeply. I whispered, "It's not your fault, Der. Don't blame yourself. Please.."

I ran circles in the back of his neck, and he growled, low in his throat, at the action and snarled, angrily, "Don't do that. Don't console me, Lily. I don't deserve it."

I huffed, "What makes you think you don't deserve common curtsey? You did not kill your sister. She loved you, you loved her, even I know that, and I've been gone for 3 years. You couldn't hurt her, even if you tried!"

He growled, lowly in his throat, "I know I didn't. I know I couldn't. But I might as well have, I left her here, and he got to her!"

Stammering, I asked, "Who, Derek?"

"PETER!"

My blood froze at his words, and I felt my stomach lurch, painfully. My breathing quickened, and I felt like I couldn't get enough air into my body. I couldn't force any words out of my mouth, and my eyes prickled with unshed tears, which seemed to piss him off even more. He stood, then, quickly, and I landed, ungracefully, on the couch. He loomed over me, with anger exploding in his eyes, and, honestly, for the first time, I was truly afraid of him.

His canines were bared, aggressively, and his claws were peeking over his fingernails, terrifyingly. He looked like he was struggling to control his wolf-half; his eyes fading from the loving green I was in love with, to a terrifying crimson, and I knew that if he lost this battle, I would be hard-pressed to stop him from hurting me. No matter our past relationship. Cautiously, I raised my hands, and consoled, relaxingly, "Der.. Just relax," and reached for his clawed hands.

Affectionately, I held his fingers with my own, and pulled him closer to my body. I made sure he was calm enough for me to approach, before I ran my fingers through his hair, and over the features of his face. I soothed, "Derek, it's okay."

Vigilantly, I nudged him over to the sofa, and his breathing slowly relaxed and evened out and he drew his arm across my waist, and pulled me so my knees were draped over his abdomen. He apologised, sincerely, "Sorry about that."

I shrugged, and replied, "It's okay, you've always been grumpy," and I smiled, even though the prior conversation still weighed heavily in my mind. He gave me a small, forced smile, and responded, robotically, "Shut up, you."

Grinning widely, I tucked my face in his shoulder, and the silence that settled on us was comfortable and affectionate. He exhaled, deeply, and commented, while running a hand through his hair, "What happened to us, Lily?"

I bumped his shoulder, and made a low noise in the back of my throat, not quite sure what I could say in response t that. He continued, "I just.. I understand why you left. I get it, I do, but it hurts. It does," he stammered over his words, "I was so angry for _so _long, and I didn't know how to deal with it, so I didn't. I just.. Stopped working."

Throughout his speech, I began drawing small circles in his chest whenever he got to an especially difficult part, apparently calming him down enough so he could continue, and it worked.

I took in a calming breath, and readied myself before I replied, "I cant make it better, I cant. I'm sorry I left. It wasn't the best thing for us, but I'm not going to lie, it was the best thing for me. It sounds so selfish saying it out loud, but its true, and I would be lying if I said anything else," and bravely, I rushed out, "Der, I still feel the same way about you."

He tensed, briefly, and moved me, quickly, so I was facing him, still seated comfortably in his lap. He grasped my chin, tightly, with his fingers, and stared, intensely, into my eyes; his pupils dilated and a grimace planted firmly onto his lips.

He growled, lowly, "Excuse me?"

Immediately, I glanced away, unable to keep staring into his passionate gaze, and he snarled, loudly, as I did so. He reiterated, "Repeat what you just said."

I stammered, "I-I, well, I still feel the same way about you, Derek."

There was a brief pause in the atmosphere, and I felt my stomach tighten, exponentially. It all happened too fast, and I couldn't tell you who came forth first, but good God, I was glad for it. Our lips met in a heated, passionate embrace, and he rumbled, forcefully, while, simultaneously, spinning us so he was lying atop my body, on the couch.

"Say it," he sighed, feverishly, his eyes bleeding that unfamiliar, fiery red. I paused to catch my breath, and felt him nibble across the length of my collarbone, just like he used to. I breathed, "I love you, Derek."

He tensed, then glanced up at me, his eyes no longer the green that I adored, but a blistering red, that seemed to stare directly into my soul. His voice was heavy and distorted, almost like he was growling, whilst speaking, concurrently, and ordered, "Say it again."

As we kissed, I moaned, "I love you," over and over again, so many times that the words became one, and I stopped making sense. He didn't seem to care, as he licked, bit, sucked and kissed all along my exposed torso, and I arched my back off of the furniture, feeling the familiar scratching of his stubble rub across my bare skin. He roared, loudly, making my shudder with pleasure, and said, factually, "If you don't stop making those noises, I'm going to wreck you, Lilac."

Almost as if he were trying to push home his point, he rolled his hips, in _that _way that had my eyes rolling into the back of my head, and a silent groan falling from my 'o'-shaped lips. He grinned, wolfishly, down at me, and I grasped the back of his neck, tightly, in my warm hands, and joined our lips once more.

Let's just say our make-out session lasted a lot longer than I first thought, but it was oh-so much better than I remembered. Eventually, we made our way from the couch downstairs, to my bedroom upstairs ,just for comfort, Derek refusing to let me lay my feet flat on the floor, and we fell asleep, held tightly in each other's arms.


	42. Chapter 42

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day. LEREK LEMONS, LEMONS, LEMONS EVERYWHERE!**

**Lilac POV**

As soon as my consciousness returned to me, the first thing I recognised was a relaxed weight draped over my midsection, and my eyes flittered open of their own accord. Familiar heavy breathing was felt brushing down the back of my neck, and I snuggled further into the warm embrace, only to have it groan in approval. A familiar, gravely, and somewhat tired voice responded, "Don't do that."

Freezing, momentarily, before realising who it was, and grinning, devilishly, to myself, before pushing my back against his chest, and pressing my ass against his.. nether regions, and felt him rumble, appreciatively. His arms tightened around my waist, and manoeuvred me, so I was flat on my back, and he was draped over me, in a way that was equal parts adorable as it was enticing. He kissed the tip of my petite nose, then along my cheekbones, and finally, a small, chaste kiss on my lips. He whispered, "Good morning, beautiful."

I smiled, widely, up at him, and kissed him, in return. Nuzzling my nose in his neck, feeling his stubble brush my face, tickling everything it touched. I replied, "Good morning, yourself."

He tightened his grip on my waist, and I realised that we still had our clothes on from last night. Contentedly, I asked, "I need to shower, can I get up, baby?"

He nodded, and rolled to the side, freeing me, and I stepped out of the bed, tugging up the shorts that had fallen down, slightly. He growled, slightly, and I glanced backwards, a confused expression blossoming on my face.

"What's wrong?"

A snarl was worn on his features, and he glared at the shirt I was wearing, and growled, "Don't wear that again."

I raised an eyebrow at him, and I looked down at the sweater I had on. This confused me for a minute, until I was reminded that both Jared and Derek were werewolves, and honestly, they were the most possessive, jealous, overbearing sons of bitches around. I smirked, teasingly, and gave him an less than innocent wink, "It's because it's Jared's right?"

He growled, and his canines protruded from his lips. His antics amused me for a moment, before I rolled me eyes, mischievously, and responded, simply, "He's gay, Derek."

A blank look fell onto his face, and his cheeks bled a light pink, and at least he had the conscience to look a little sheepish.

"Oh.. Sorry," he amended, lightly.

I nodded, and replied, "It's okay, Der. Werewolf stuff, I get it."

He smiled, appreciatively, and I left, to go to the bathroom, taking a towel along with me. Quickly as I could, I undressed, and immediately jumped into the shower, once it had stopped fluctuating, and I cleansed my body and thoroughly washed my hair, running my fingers through the strands, until there were no knots left.

Out of nowhere, desire flooded my system, and I had to literally hold myself up in the shower, and it took all I had inside me to not bolt straight over to Derek and beg for him to have sex with me again.

After I wrapped my body up with the fluffy white towel, towelling myself off, taking care as to not knock the piercing in my right nipple, I brushed my teeth and washed my face, quickly, and dried my hair, after pulling on the plain black underwear, and tossing the used towel and dirty clothes in the basket in the corner of the room, I padded back to my bedroom, pausing momentarily, as my heart skipped a few beats, thundering loudly in my chest. Shakily, I fondled the doorknob, before throwing caution to the wind, and pushing it open, and walking into the room.

On the surface, I was portraying a completely calm composure, however, inside, I was a quivering mess, and Derek probably knew it. I could feel his eyes burning a hole in my back, and I searched through my closet for something to wear, ignoring the fact that I was more or less naked, displaying my body to my ex-boyfriend, in the hopes that he would just _fuck_ me.

Seriously, I hadn't had _proper_ sex in the 3 years that I was MIA, nobody attracted me as much as Derek had. I mean, of course I had had a few one night stands here and there, but never being fully satisfied as much as I did with him. I could feel the craving bubbling beneath the surface, and I knew I wouldn't last much longer, if he didn't do something about it. There was a broken growl heard from the bed, and then I felt fingers everywhere. Flittering the length of my spine, across my toned thighs and up and down my arms, twisting in my fingers, and tugging on the ends of my hair. He trapped my face in his caring hands, and kissed me, once, softly, on my lips, and sighed, "You just had to go and get it, didn't you?"

Before I could ask what he meant, he tore me clean across the room, and threw me onto the bed, so I bounced on the spot, a little. He circled me, critically, before discarding his shirt, showcasing his still impressive abdomen and chest to me. I felt myself bite my lip, appreciatively, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bulge in his pants twitch, slightly. I raised my eyebrow at him, and he simply shrugged it off. He pushed me down, so my back was flat against the bed, and hauled my legs so they were firmly placed around his waist. He pressed himself to me, and we kissed once more, harsher, needier than before, and I gasped into it, revelling in the flavour of him.

"This is a dangerous game you're playing, Lily," he wheezed out, finally, and playfully, I rolled my eyes, and ground my hips to his own, brushing his erection through his trousers slightly, drawing a huff from him. Immediately, he pinned my arms down, by my head, and clenched his fists in the sheets by my face, tearing them.

In a show of dominance, I suppose, he bit down on my neck, hard enough to leave a substantial mark, for a while, at least, and I groaned into his ear as he did so. He moaned, "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

I nodded, clearly past being able to speak properly, and he grinned, his stubble brushing my cheek, again, and he nipped along my jaw line. He breathed, clearly as horny as I was, "This wasn't funny, you know."

I choked, and asked, "What do you mean?"

He growled, and enthused, "Coming out in next to nothing. My pack mark on your skin. You don't have a _clue_ what you do to me, do you?"

I shook my head, and shamelessly moaned in his ear, kissing the patch of skin beneath the lobe, lovingly, "Show me, Derek."

He snarled, then went to work. He tugged me upwards a little, and unclipped my bra, tossing it clean across the room, and began biting at the newly exposed skin. He sucked and tugged at my breasts, circling them, tortuously, and listened, silently, to my garbled cries of encouragement, only growing more and more enthused by the moment.

His tongue swirled around my left nipple, teasingly, and he nipped at it, with enough force to make me scream into the silence of the bedroom. He did the same with the other, tonguing the bar in the right, and tugged at it with his teeth and I couldn't stop rolling my hips, trying to gain enough friction between us, but he wasn't having any of it. He pushed himself further onto me, succeeding in locking my lower half in place, and rendering me unable to move at all.

"Nu-uh, not quite, baby," he panted, against my skin. He kissed lower and lower, before hooking his fingers in my underwear, and shimmying them down my legs, throwing them somewhere else in the room, leaving me completely naked, writhing beneath him.

He bowed my legs over his shoulders, and kissed along my thighs, scratching his fingers up and down my calves, grinning mischievously to himself. His fingers slid inside of me, and I couldn't hold back the screams that exploded from my throat while he bit and nipped on the skin of my thighs for what seemed like hours, but was probably nothing more than a few minutes, and I was virtually dripping with excitement.

He whispered in my ear, grinning the entire time, "I'm going to fuck you now, okay, baby?"

I nodded, tears leaking from my eyes and rolling down my cheeks, for the pressure building between my legs, and the need to cum becoming so intense, I felt like crying. He unbuckled his pants, quickly, and kicked them away, without hesitation, followed by his boxers, and his erection sprung upward, curling nearing the mushroomed head, and clearly surpassing his bellybutton. The dark patch of hair at the base of his cock wasn't enough to distract me from his glory, and I couldn't help but bite my lip at the sight of him.

He'd grown in the last few years, if my memory served me correctly.

I grinned, reaching down, and curled my fingers around his thickness, unable to wrap my hands around the entire girth, hearing him hiss in return. Mischievously, I played with the shaft of his cock, and used his distracted state to manoeuvre us so I was sitting atop of his thighs, while his back was against the headboard.

Growing more and more confident with each stroke, I twisted my wrists nearing the base, and bent my neck, so I was face-to-face with his glorious length, and swirled my tongue around the head, enveloping him completely in my lips, and twirled it around in my mouth, savouring the heady taste of him, and the heaviness on my tongue. His abdomen tightened in response, and he whined, "Jesus Christ, don't stop."

Increasing my speed and vigour, I cupped his balls in my right hand, just the way he used to like it, while stroking the exposed part of his shaft that I wasn't sucking on. Even though my jaw was burning from the exertion, I didn't stop, nor did I slow down in the slightest. The noises he was making weren't at all human, and they began heightening nearing his climax, and I felt him nudge me away, with a loud shout of, "Stop.. Fucking stop now, because I am so _so _close".

I released his erection from my mouth with a 'pop', then licked my lips of his precum, wantonly. He tugged me down, and kissed me, harshly, tasting himself on my lips, and that thought turned me on more than it probably should have. He turned over, onto my back, again, and stared into my eyes, as he sank into me, without hesitation.

And everything seemed to pause for a second, before crippling sensations rocketed through my core.

My eyes snapped shut, and I bit down on my bottom lip, hard enough to break the skin, and he did the same, on my shoulder, marking me for the world to see. Initially, he pumped in and out of me, relatively slowly, and rolled his hips in _that_ way that send me keening, lowly, in my throat.

"_Faster.. Please.. Derek.. God!"_

As the noises I made increased in volume, his thrusts increased in strength and power, and before long, he was literally pounding into me, over and over again, setting every single one of my nerve endings on fire.

I couldn't taste anything but Derek, I couldn't see anything but him.

The sound of slapping skin, as his balls collided with my ass with every sharp thrust was the only sound, besides that of our wanton, hushed moans, or the slippery, rushed kisses we shared.

I was going to be sent insane with an ridiculous need, my nails embedded in his shoulders, while his were digging into the skin of my waist, his face pressed into my neck, while his cock drove into me, over and over again. My whines became something of a commodity as he changed speed and precision, at a whim. Sometimes, it became so intense while we stared into each other's eyes, that I had to look away, otherwise I would be overcome with pure emotion, and do or say something to ruin the mood.

He was repeating my name, over and over again, growling and snarling above me, his eyes shifting from a possessive Alpha red to my perfect Derek's green, and I couldn't decide on which one turned me on more.

"Mine," he growled, "All mine." He captured my lips again, and I couldn't even find it in me to argue with him. Not while his twitching length was currently hammering into me, anyway. Before I knew it, a white hot light swept through my body, and I was screaming his name, over and over again. Requiring some kind of tether to this world, I scratched my fingers through his hair, and tore at a few of his strands.

"_DEREK!"_

He followed on behind me, quickly, and I felt him go rigid, his eyes becoming unfocused and glassy, before roaring, oh-so-loudly, and tightening his grip on my waist, bruising my skin, and rode out his orgasm to the fullest, rolling his hips in that way that had me twitching, never slowing down in his thrusts, and a loud shout of, _"Fuck.. Lily!"_

The sensation of his cum filling me was something that I wasn't used to, as we had always used a condom before this, however, as I was on the Pill, thank the Lord, we didn't have to anymore.

Breathing heavily, he rolled off of me, to the side, and wrapped his arm around my waist, lovingly, and curled his fingers through the ends of my now-brown hair. He kissed my forehead, and I returned it with my own small peck on his lips. Which turned into something completely different, as he wouldn't let me go.

"I love you too, you know," Derek mumbled, into my hairline, and I snuggled further into his chest, comfortable for the first time in so long.

"I'm sorry it took us so long to get back to being like this, I didn't mean for it to get so bad," I whispered into his torso. Purring, deeply, in his chest, he shrugged it off, and kissed my temple as I drifted into a slumber. Even though it was only early in the morning, Derek and I fell asleep, once more, enjoined in each other's embraces, entirely more sated than we were when we, initially, woke up.


	43. Chapter 43

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Isaac had woken up some time early in the morning, and I mean _early _in the morning, the following day, alerting me to the fact that my father was coming home soon; he said he could hear him coming almost 10 streets away, which I thought would have been a fucking brilliant tool to have growing up in this silent house.

Quickly, he dressed, and went to leave, before pausing, momentarily, then turning around, and blessing my lips with a positively bruising kiss, and a wink, promising seduction the next time I saw him. Thankfully, we were finally on spring break, the monstrous lacrosse game symbolising the last day of my junior year at that hell hole I called Beacon Hills High.

Tucking myself back into bed, knowing full well I wouldn't be able to drift back off to sleep, but faking it so my dad wouldn't suspect anything was out of place. I couldn't stand lying to my dad, but what other options did I have? Tell him the truth? About werewolves, kanimas and hunters? He'd probably just call me a liar anyway, so there isn't any point. It helped, though, that Melissa knew, so Scott didn't have to lie to her anymore, and she could cover for me whenever we were at Derek's doing werewolf shit.

Tensing as I heard my dad pull into the driveway, I clenched my eyes closed, tightly, before attempting to relax enough so I wouldn't look like I was deceiving him. Minutes past, and I heard him clattering away in the kitchen, probably fixing himself something most definitely unhealthy, and trudged up the stairs, tiredly, before nudging open my door, as quietly as he could. Bless him, always worrying about me, even though I was a world class fuck up. I heard him sigh, and it was a sound I had gotten used to over the last year and a half - a disappointed sigh that cut me deeply every time I overheard it.

I felt tears sting my eyes, and I bit my lip, sharply, trying to quell the disheartening feelings swirling inside of my gut, casting a dark shadow over the wonderful night I had spent with my new boyfriend, Isaac. Thinking about that wonderful, absolutely perfect specimen had even more guilt brimming inside of me.

Even though the night was perfect, and I wouldn't have changed a moment of it, I still felt a little erroneous, like what happened was, not necessarily bad, but.. Not entirely as wonderful as I initially tagged it as in the beginning. Seriously, how long would it be until he left me? There was nothing about me that was immediately compelling, and even then, if someone got to know me, they'd know I am fucking annoying as hell.

I mean, _come on, _look at me.

Take one look.

I'm spindly, skinny, as pale as the surface of the fucking moon,and so fucking annoying. Of course, he's going to get irritated by me. I actually feel sorry for him, being paired with me like this. Its like, of all of the people he could have been mated to, it was me. And even though it was still early days, I felt strangely dependant on him; like, if he left me, I'd crumble.

There was always this voice, in the back of my head, whispering and picking at everything I've ever done, every thought that passed through my mind, judging me, and cutting me down at every turn. I wondered, idly, if thoughts like these were normal, or if I were just abnormal, as usual.

My stomach churned, violently, then, and I felt bile rise in my throat quickly, and I almost didn't make it to the bathroom to practically spill my guts out into the toilet. My dad must have heard me trample over to bathroom across the hall, because he poked his head into the bathroom, and shout, worriedly, "Stiles! Are you okay?"

Groaning, I turned to him, tears having spilt over my cheeks, and dripped onto the cold, tiled bathroom floor beneath me, and whimpered, "I don't feel so good, dad."

His mouth morphed into a grim line, before he fetched me a glass of cold water, and, embarrassing as it was, he carried me to my bedroom and tucked me in, like he used to when I was, like, 7. Although I warned him off doing so, my dad insisted on checking my temperature, and he found that I was running up a sharp fever. He warned me off going out for the rest of the week, and I agreed with him, although I had wanted to surprise Lily, who had been particularly quiet over the last few days.

Then again, she is a person, too, and has a life of her own. I shouldn't expect her to be at my beck and call every time I simply want to talk to her, although I've found myself in need of a dose of Lilac. Deciding that I would call her up later on today, when I'm feeling less dizzy and more alert.

It didn't surprise me in the least that Scott and I stopped speaking now that he had Allison, and honestly, I'm not bitter about it anymore. They're happy, and I suppose that's all that matters, right? Well, let's see how long their relationship lasts, what with her family tradition being the genocide of Scott's kind. But whatever, you know, it's just Stiles' common sense talking, after all. Who's going to listen to me? It's not like I'm right all of the time.

Oh.. Wait..

I am.

Contrary to popular belief, Scott and Allison's relationship wasn't all primped roses and picnic in the forest of a sunny day. They argued _a lot, _and sometimes it got so awkward to be around them that I would lie through my teeth to get out of situations that would cause them to be near one another. Scott would get insanely jealous whenever someone so much as breathed Allison's air, and she would blow him off for Werewolf Killing 101 with her granddad, without Scott even noticing!

Honestly, he's not an idiot - far from it, as a matter of fact. It's just that he's incredibly dense, sometimes. He's as stubborn as a mule, and reckless with his abilities. Looking back on it now, we were incredibly childish in our freshman year, showboating his abilities, simply to get into the pants of some girl. It's almost laughable, now that I think about it. He wouldn't have done half the things he did, had I not been there to egg him on, and that hurt more than I could imagine. I've ruined lives, simply because I wanted to be noticed for something other than being 'the pet human', for once.

Sure, Lydia was human enough, but it's different with her. She had the respect of the pack; she was smart, beautiful and intimidating, even if she couldn't exactly hold her own in a fight. She even had Jackson to protect her, and we all know that he loves her more than life itself. Me, on the other hand, well, my mouth gets us into a lot of the messes that happen, and I just.. I don't know how long I can keep this whole 'I-don't-give-a-shit' façade, and it was driving me crazy.

I just need someone to talk to; I need a friend.


	44. Chapter 44

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

**Trigger chapter, guys.**

The ringing of my phone was what woke me up, a second time, that afternoon, and I glanced the caller ID, my eyes bleary and Derek growling in his sleep, and immediately answered. My voice was a little parched as I asked, "Stiles, what's up?"

Instead of replying, Stiles simply sniffled, and I could hear that he had been crying, a little, in his tone of voice. He answered, eventually, "I.. I need to talk to you, can you come over please?"

"Sure sweetie, I'll be there as soon as I can, and we're going to have a long talk, okay?"

He simply sniffed again, and hung up the phone, prompting me to act quickly. Glancing back at Derek, I shuffled around on the bed, and heard him moan in return. He growled, "Don't get up, I'm tired."

I whispered, "Baby, I'm going over to Stiles', so I need to get up now."

Pouting, adorably, he replied, "I don't want you to go, stay with me," and proceeded to wrap his arms around my waist. Shrugging away from the contact, I knew if he started this, I wouldn't be able to tear myself away, and I admonished, "He needs me, baby. I'll call you when I get there, so you don't have to worry. You've got a pack to sort out, they'll be missing their daddy."

Snorting, simply, as a reply, I threw back the covers, and slid out of the bed, aching in all of the right places, and went about my morning - read early afternoon - routine. Nonchalantly, I exempted washing my hair, as I had done so already, and washed my body, quickly. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I padded back into my bedroom, and saw that Derek was halfway dressed, clad in his jeans, and buttoning up his shirt, a smug smile on his face at my appreciative stare.

Walking over to him, somewhat seductively, he wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me upward, so I was a few inches off of the ground, his lips on my own, and my hands tugging in his hair. He groaned, into my mouth, and breathed, against my skin, "I don't want you to go, baby."

Whining lowly in my throat, as he attacked last night's bruises on my neck with his tongue, and I fought away the urge to bend to his intense will. Smiling to myself, I pulled away from his embrace, my feet touching the floor, and pushing myself onto my tiptoes, and kissed his nose, one last time. He beamed, and pulled away from me, although reluctantly, and tugged his leather jacket onto his shoulders, before winking at me, and leaving the bedroom.

As soon as he stepped out of my scope of vision, I felt an overbearing sense of regret weigh down on my heart, and I paused, before shaking my head, dispelling the thoughts, and getting dressed and ready to leave for Stiles'. I threw on a pair of skin tight light blue jeans, and a fairly easy-going, asymmetrical vest, with the Avengers' insignia on the front.

What?

It was a brilliant movie, and an even better comic strip.

After knotting my hair up in a lazy bun, I strapped on a pair of chunk heeled, brown ankle, lace up boots, and a thick Aztec-styled cardigan over my shoulders, to brace away from the cold, even though the weather outside looked rather enticing. I pulled on a pair of sunglasses onto my face, to hide the deep set bags under my eyes, and rubbed some gloss onto my lips, before collecting my keys, and making my way downstairs, and out into the world.

The ride to Stiles' was less than 10 minutes on my motorcycle, and I was the glad that there was cool weather surrounding me. I pulled up onto the sidewalk, and stepped off the bike, before walking it up his driveway, and knocking on his door. I noticed that his dad's police cruiser was missing, so I assumed he was at work. Stiles opened up the door, and, well, I'm going to be honest.

He looked a mess.

His skin was much paler than normal, holding more of a green undertone than the his usual glow. His eyes, which were blisteringly red and were bloodshot, held bags heavier and darker than my own, and I grimaced at the sight of them. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink, and I wanted nothing more than to hug him close. Which I did, of course, and pulled him into his house, and sat him on the living room sofa. He tucked his feet underneath his body, and wrapped his thin arms around his middle. The grey sweatshirt that he wore draped over his slender frame, and I raised an eyebrow at his obviously exhausted form.

Once I made sure he was settled, and had stopped shaking, I walked into the kitchen, and got him a much needed cup of cold water. After I handed it to him, and made sure he took in enough water, I asked, as softly as I could, "What happened, Stiles? The last time we spoke, you were going to talk to Isaac.. Did he do something?"

Worry swelled in my gut, and I couldn't help but tense, fearing the absolute worst.

"Nothing.. He didn't do anything," and as he looked at me, and noticed my outraged stare, he amended, "Seriously, nothing. Not like that. Good God, no, he didn't do anything that I didn't want."

Grimacing, deeply, at the scenarios that popped into my mind; each more explicit that the next, and he grinned, weakly, as though he knew what I was thinking. He paused then, and his expression seemed to shatter, and once again, he was in tears, crying into my shoulder, unable to stop himself from breaking down. He wailed, pathetically, "I-I j-just c-cant d-do a-anything r-right, c-can I-I?"

My forehead crumpling at his tone, I draped my arms over his shoulder, and pulled him to my chest, hoping against hope that I could keep him in one piece, otherwise I wouldn't know what to do. This guy, this skinny, pale, sarcastic son of a bitch had wormed his way into my heart, and I could see no way of him ever leaving. So I'll be damned if I leave him in his hour of need, because then, what kind of a best friend would I be?

"Now listen, I need you to tell me what's wrong, because, as awesome as I am, I'm not a mind-reader. I need you to talk about it, Stiles," I chided, delicately.

He turned, so his face was no longer in my shoulder, but facing the window opposite us, and he whispered, brokenly, "I just get everything wrong. Isaac.. He's perfect, you know. Everything anybody could want in a partner, and then there's me," and as he heard me attempt to interrupt, he groaned, "No.. I'm serious, look at me, I'm just the human. I cant do _anything! _And that's what kills me - I'm useless!"

Having had enough, I grasped his shoulders in my hands, tightly, and stared in his eyes, my green orbs sparking with a biting righteousness. I stated, sharply, "Listen to me, you beautiful, sarcastic bundle of awesome. You are just as important as any of those werewolves. You are the pillar of their pack; had you not been around, _trust me_, they would have descended into anarchy months ago. You are the reason why Scott figured out what he was, and came to accept it. You were the first person I met here who even gave me the time of day, and I couldn't have been happier it was you. And Isaac… He's one of the luckiest son of a gun's I've ever seen, and you better own your confidence like a coat, otherwise you'll lose yourself. Depression is not an option, sweetie, believe me, it does nothing but hold you back."

He glanced at me questioningly, and asked, quietly, "What do you mean?"

Inhaling, deeply, I prepared myself for a dive, somersaulting into my own personal, never-ending rabbit hole, and hoped to God that Stiles stuck around with me afterwards. Shrugging off the cardigan I had on, I held out my wrists, and waited for him to understand what I was telling him. He stared at the skin of my wrists, and, all of a sudden, his hand smothered the gasp that tumbled from his lips. He stared in my eyes, a million questions running through his hazel orbs, and I hushed them with a simple, sad ghost of a smile.

"After my parents died, and I had to ID their bodies, I fell headfirst into what I now understand to be post-traumatic stress. I couldn't sleep for days, I wouldn't eat, I completely shut myself away from humanity. I drank myself unconscious more times than I would like to mention, and picked up a smoking habit that, thankfully, I've now kicked. Cutting was.. An escape. From everything, I guess. It stopped the hurting inside my heart, and forced me to focus on the physical pain that I was inflicting on myself. It helped for a while, too. Well.. One day, I went a bit too far. I had been drinking, and I got sloppy, and I bled out, a little. I woke up in the ER and I swore to myself that I wouldn't ever do it again," and with a diminutive shrug, I ignored Stiles' disbelieving expression as I grasped his hand in my own, then trailed his fingers over an especially thick scar that marred the inner corner of my elbow, crisscrossing over others, "These scars remind me that no matter how low I get, I'm still here, and while I can bleed, I can feel and I can get better. So, please Stiles, know that these feelings, this anger, this neglect, it goes away. It all goes away."

The atmosphere in the room was intense and high-strung, and I decided that it would probably be best if I left, so I gathered my cardigan, and the keys that were on the table, and stood, however Stiles leant out and grasped my forearm in his hands, and pulled me back down, while saying, "Don't leave me alone tonight, please?"

I recognised the tone of his voice, and it reminded me of my own, not two and a half years ago, and I knew that if he was left alone, he might have done something he would regret later. I hated referring to it as 'something stupid' because it wasn't 'stupid', it was a means to escape. And freedom is every person's God-given right.

Although, initially, it was slightly awkward and felt somewhat forced, we worked out a sort of routine, and spent the rest of the afternoon and the night talking with one another, and cuddling together, while watching movies, and eating crappy takeout until we were fit to burst. At around half past midnight, Stiles began yawning quietly to himself, me soon following after, and he found us a comfy blanket to wrap around ourselves as we slept on the couch, Stiles wrapped up contentedly in my arms.


	45. Chapter 45

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O****'****Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I****'****m British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I****'****m going to guess. Please, don****'****t take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.**

Cradling Stiles in my arms while we slept, fighting away his nightmares and keeping him safe, made me feel entirely more maternal than it probably should have. I suppose this was what a pack-mother did, right; protected her 'children' from harm, cooked for them, cleaned up their messes, the full shebang.

And I wasn't as adverse to the idea as I had thought I would have been, initially. It felt somewhat presumptuous that Derek would take me on as his alpha female, however, if what he was saying was true, and we were mated for life, which I fully believe, then it was inevitable.

I would become the pseudo-mother of a pack of rambunctious, hormonal teenagers.

As quietly and as softly as I could, I wiggled out of the sofa, Stiles clutching a cushion in my place, and went about making him something to eat. I remembered that he had told me that besides curly fries, his favourite food to eat was meat; especially bacon, so I rustled him up a somewhat greasy fry-up. Scavenging through his cabinets and fridge, I pulled out a platter of eggs, a tin of beans, pieces of thick, soft bread, bacon strips, for him, and chicken nuggets, for myself, and went to town.

I made myself a strong cup of coffee, simply to give myself a boost while I was cooking, and I smiled as I swallowed the bitter liquid.

"How are you even coherent right now?," Stiles grumbled, with his face pushed into the cushions.

Grinning to myself, I turned to him, and replied, "Wake up, sleeping beauty. Jump in the shower, while I finish up your breakfast, and we can start the day."

He didn't seem to like this plan, however, heavily, dragged his feet up the staircase, and I heard him turn the shower on a few minutes later. I knew I would need to shower after him, however I had no spare clothes so I would probably have to do so when I got home, whatever time that may be, nor did I have a toothbrush, so I was well and truly fucked. Honestly, I should start leaving clothes here on purpose, considering how much I'm around here.

About half an hour later, I had finished the breakfast, and Stiles came bounding down the stairs, entirely more refreshed, wide-eyed and clearly hungry. As if he could read my mind, he turned to me and said, "There's spare toothbrushes in the pantry. Scott used to come over so much, my dad had to invest in spares of pretty much everything."

Grinning to myself, I handed him the plate of food, warning him that it was scorching hot, and we settled down in the living room, and began watching early morning cartoons. Even though I wasn't exactly starving, since we ate quite a bit the night before, I still felt the telltale clenches of hunger cinch in at my stomach, and I tucked into my breakfast, as did Stiles, who seemed to be far hungrier than I was.

Worriedly, I asked, "When was the last time you ate, Stiles?"

He shrugged, and replied, "Two nights ago, I think."

Pushing his shoulder in admonishment, I scolded, "That's not healthy, Stiles."

He smiled, although it wasn't exactly an entirely true one in itself, and responded, "I know. I just felt horrible the entire day yesterday, ever since Isaac left in the morning."

Raising an eyebrow at him, I saw him blush under my inspection, and look away, embarrassed. I pressed, "So tell me about you and lover boy."

He shrugged, but I could tell by him coy smile that he was happy, and he answered, "There's not much to tell, honestly. He surprised me, we talked it out a little, and well.. We fooled around a bit, and then we cuddled. What about you and Derek, because I heard that you guys argued a few days ago," and he seemed a little guilty for asking.

Lightning struck me, for a moment, and I raised a hand to cover my mouth, shocked.

I gasped, "Shit.. I didn't tell you, did I? Derek and I.. I guess we're a little like you and Isaac," his eyes widened exponentially, and I sighed, "When I used to live here, Derek and I were a couple, then when my parents died, I left town, and I havent seen or heard from him since."

He asked, shocked, "But you two are.. Back together now, then?"

I replied, "Well, I guess so, but it was really down to another family of werewolves I met a few nights ago."

His eyes widened, once more, and he grumbled, "You never tell me anything!"

I rolled my eyes, and lilted, "I'm telling you now, ain't I?"

He nodded, eventually, and I continued, "Well, I was out jogging the other night, and some chick comes out of nowhere and attacks me. She was a werewolf, and I was tired, so there wasn't any competition. She told me that she was Derek's mate, and I should leave town if I knew what was good for me. Yeah, bitchy, I know right," and Stiles snarled in annoyance, "Anyway, I woke up in the forest, and started walking, and ended up in another town, it's like a vacation spot for travellers. Either way, I met a family of werewolves, and they took me in and Jared, the youngest, dropped me off, Derek went absolutely insane!"

Stiles' eyes widened considerably, and I saw the interest and the initial shock in his eye fade into something more mischievous, and he whispered, sneakily, "He teach you a lesson, then?"

I ran my tongue over my teeth, not even a sliver of embarrassment running through me, while speaking about my sex life with Stiles, not noticing how comfortable we were with one another.

"Well, it was an.. Intense lesson, if you know what I mean?," and I winked at him, before adding, "So.. What about you, Stiles? What's Isaac like in bed?"

He bit his lip, thinking about something, before responding, stars in his eyes, "Jesus.. How can I explain it without seeming like a horndog? I mean, we havent gone.. All the way, yet, but we got pretty close the other night."

"You wanna talk specifics? Trade stories, that kind of girl-talk?"

He rolled his eyes, then suddenly became a little nervous, and he stammered, "W-What does it feel like?"

"Sex?"

He nodded, innocently, and I couldn't help but grin a little at his inexperience. I asked, "How far did you go with Isaac?"

He shrugged and almost choked on his reply. I urged, "If you cant say it, then you cant do it, Stiles."

He blushed a bruising red, and stuttered, bravely, "He sucked me off, I did the same, then went to sleep after that."

"Okay.. Well, I'll give you the honest truth. With Derek, well it hurt a lot, like.. A whole lot, the first, maybe, five minutes. He took his time with me, you know, he made sure it wouldn't hurt more than it needed to, and I suppose it's different with us, because we're not the same gender. I'm going to give you a piece of advice now, and I pray you stick with it," and I leant in close, before stating, seriously, "Relax. Because if you don't, it'll hurt a lot more than it needs to."

He played with his hands, anxiously, and scratched the back of his neck, clearly nervous. I asked, "Do you want to talk about something else, Stiles?"

He shook his head, and answered, clearly, "No.. I'm just a little awkward about this kind of stuff. Sorry, Lily."

I laughed, and uncrossed my legs, feeling the pins and needles pulsating through my body, uncomfortably. I turned to him, and stated, factually, "When you're ready, you're ready, Stiles. Don't force it, it'll come to you."

"I know.. I just get nervous, that's all," he shrugged, almost endearingly, and ran a hand through his bed-head. "How will I know when I'm ready?"

I shrugged, flippantly, "I had sex at 16, because I was in love with Derek, and I wanted him to have something nobody else could have. You'll know when you're ready, because you'll look at Isaac and feel like he's worth it."

He went quiet for a while, spooning the last of his beans into his mouth, and I asked, trying to move the conversation onto something happier, "So what is it you want to do?"

He sighed, "I don't know, I just want him to hold me, that's all."

I tugged my hair out of my hair tie, and ran my hands through my tendrils, before breathing out, lowly, "I know how you feel, Spud."

I rubbed my hands together, and said, resolutely, "Okay, this is far too tense for me, let's go shopping, and just have a nice day together, okay. Now, go get dressed, come over to mine in, about, let's say, an hour? And then we can leave, okay?"

He nodded, and took my empty plate from my hands. He washed the dishes up, and I rinsed them, allowing us to work in sync together, and get the job over and done with quicker. Immediately afterwards, threw on my cardigan, brushed my teeth, using a spare in his bathroom, left his house, and drove back to mine, within 20 minutes. I was glad that it didn't take me very long to get dressed, as my hair and make-up would take _forever _to do.

Today looked and felt like a good day. Stiles was happy, so I was happy. Everybody wins.


End file.
